Truth
by Lindelea1
Summary: Faramir Took and Goldilocks Gamgee might make a nice couple... but for the difference in their social status. Meanwhile, young Frodo Gamgee has trouble that only the Thain can resolve. (Sequel to "Where the Merlin Cries")
1. A Visit to an Ailing Friend

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
Admin Notes: This story begins the winter before Fastred is appointed Warden of Westmarch, he and Elanor move out to the new territory, and Mayor Samwise comes up for re-election.  
  
O, and by the way, I am now posting new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga...  
  
Look for the next chapter to "FirstBorn", in case you are following that story, and if ffnet agrees, on the morrow.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a cream scone fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**1. A Visit to an Ailing Friend**  
  
_S.R. 1454, late in the year_  
  
Rose opened the door to a streaming Thain and his escort. 'Come in,' she said, 'O Pippin, you shouldn't have ridden out in this, you'll catch your death!' She nodded to Hildibold, who nodded back. He was an escort, a shadow, not someone to talk to, especially on the days when the Thain chose to ignore his escort. Pippin would have preferred to ride out of the Smials without one, but by tradition, an escort for the Thain was required.  
  
'How is he?' Pippin said, stepping in and shedding his sopping cloak. His escort stepped in behind him, apologetically dripping on the stones of the entryway. The twain took the towels Rose tended with thanks, applied them to hair, and wrapped the offered blankets around themselves.   
  
With a nod to Pippin, Rose led Hilly to the parlour, settling him by the fire, calling Goldilocks to bring him a pot of tea and then take the children down to the stables to polish harness. She returned to the entryway to find Pippin looking more like a hobbit and less like a mop fresh from the bucket.  
  
'I could find you a change of clothes...' she said uncertainly, thinking that whatever she managed would be too short in the leg and arm at the very least, though they'd fit otherwise. The Thain never had put weight on, not even as he passed middle age. His unnatural height, for a hobbit, was accentuated by his unusual slightness. Just looking at him made her itch to fill a platter with good, hearty food and feed it to him.  
  
As if reading her thought, Pippin smiled and said, 'I'll be fine, just poke me by a fire with a cup of tea. I shall be all dry and toasty by the time I'm ready to go out in the deluge again.'  
  
Rose chuckled, and answered his first words. 'He is well. I think we've managed to avoid the Old Gaffer's Friend*.'  
  
'I heard he lay in the rain for an hour before he was found,' Pippin said soberly.  
  
She looked at him sharply. 'How'd you hear that?'  
  
He laughed. 'I'm the Thain. I'm supposed to hear everything that goes on in the Shire.'  
  
She nodded. 'They brought him home about an hour after he'd left,' she confirmed.  
  
'Handy, to have the pony slip and fall so close to home,' Pippin said. 'Well, let me sit by the fire and chew on him a bit, that'll be nice and warming.' Rose laughed and led him to their bedroom, where a bright fire was on the hearth and the Mayor was propped up in the big bed, sipping tea.  
  
'Hullo, Pippin, what brings you out in this weather?' he said.  
  
'Somebody said the Mayor had "broke 'is head" this morning,' the Thain said, settling in a chair by the fire and stretching out his long legs. 'News travels fast now that there's a road between Bywater and Tuckborough. Thought I'd take the air and see.'  
  
'You came up the Hill?' Sam said.  
  
The Thain grinned. 'We made it up the Hill just fine, it's going down that looks to be a problem.'  
  
'I can attest to that,' the Mayor answered. 'Was just going down to take a look at the Mill, thought the Water might be coming up fast.'  
  
'It is, but Sandyman has the situation well in hand,' Pippin said. 'Whatever you may say about his manners, he knows his business when it comes to the Mill.'  
  
Rose brought him a mug of tea, strong and black as he liked it, and freshened Samwise's cup. They thanked her, and she said, 'I have some scones about to come out of the oven, with some butter fresh-churned. D'you think I can find anyone hereabout to eat them?'  
  
Pippin laughed. 'If those lads of yours don't eat them as they come out of the oven, I'd welcome a few.'  
  
Rose smirked. 'They're all down at the stables, polishing harness.'  
  
The Thain laughed again. 'I hear the Mayor has the best-looking pony team in the Shire. Now I know why.'  
  
'They'll be awhile,' the Mayor said, sipping his tea. 'Now's the time to talk business, no ears to listen in but Rose, and she doesn't tell what she hears.'  
  
'Well, first off, I think you need to arrange to lay quite a bit of gravel on the road up the Hill,' Pippin said. 'Treacherous enough going up, I'll say. I don't relish the trip down again.'  
  
'I suspect you're right,' Sam said. 'I'll get right on't in the morning.'  
  
'Your Elanor was fit to be tied when the news came, you know. Wanted to ride out with me. Diamond practically had to tie her to a chair. I managed to sneak out whilst she was nursing that grandson of yours.'  
  
Sam laughed. 'Are you sure she won't follow?'  
  
'No. So we'd better finish talking about business before she turns up at the door.' The Thain sipped his cooling tea. 'The Tooks are starting to talk, you know,' he said quietly. No more words were needed; Sam knew exactly what he was talking about. Though hobbits gossiped about everyone and everything, there was only one topic near and dear to Mayor and Mistress Gamgee's hearts at the moment, and they'd begun to hear gossip of their own amongst their neighbors.  
  
'What's to be done?' the Mayor asked soberly.  
  
Pippin fixed him with a sharp eye. 'What's the harm?' he asked. He put up a palm to forestall Sam. 'O I know what the old Thain would have said, but he's not Thain anymore. And your old gaffer is hardly about to object from the grave.'  
  
Sam shook his head. 'You cannot change centuries of tradition in a twinkling.'  
  
'I've seen the feeling between the two of them,' Pippin said softly. 'I know how it feels, to love someone out of reach.'  
  
Sam snorted. 'Love? They're much too young to call it that.'  
  
Pippin sat quite still, then said, 'I found I loved Diamond when she was about Goldilocks' age, and I was not that much older than Faramir.'  
  
'We'll have to keep them apart,' Sam said, 'yank that weed before it can take root. The Tooks will make her miserable, you know that.'  
  
'I married a farmer's daughter,' Pippin said softly.  
  
'She was a Took,' Sam countered. 'My Goldi's a nobody in the Tooks' eyes.'  
  
'Her father's the Mayor,' Pippin argued.  
  
'An elected position. The day I step down, I become a lowly gardener again.'  
  
Pippin smiled wryly, 'Still not a nobody. Ring-bearer.'  
  
'And what do the ruling families of the Shire, save yourself and Merry, know about any of that, or even care?' Though the Story was being told in the great houses now, at least in the Great Smials and in Brandy Hall, it was still little more than a story to many. Sam shook his head. 'No, I'm not bitter. Well, perhaps a little, so far as they never appreciated what Mr Frodo did.' He met Pippin's eyes. 'I won't see her hurt or sneered at for daring to marry above her station. And you know it'll hurt you as Thain, and Faramir as well, in the eyes of the Tooks.'  
  
'But...'  
  
'No,' Sam interrupted. 'You don't understand, Pippin. It's easy enough for one who's high-born to go slumming about, graciously extending friendship to the lower classes, but for one of us to presume... it just doesn't work the other way. I've seen what happens to those who try. It is better for us to remember our place and keep it.' He sighed. 'I'm sorry, Pippin. I know your friendship has always been sincere, but you know as well as I do the talk that goes on, from both sides.'  
  
'I cannot move you in this?' Pippin asked.  
  
'It's for the best,' Sam said firmly. 'Enough said.'  
  
They sipped their tea in silence. Rose brought a tray of scones, smoking hot from the oven, homemade strawberry preserves, fresh butter and clotted cream.  
  
'Mmmm,' Pippin said. 'Don't be in a big hurry to lay that gravel, Sam. I think I might settle in here awhile. No hurry to go back down the Hill.'  
  
Rose laughed. 'So how's that grandson of ours?' she asked.  
  
'Big and bonny,' Pippin said. 'He has the whole Smials competing for his grins.' He finished his first scone and dusted his fingers. Rose nodded and smiled, well pleased, and hurried out of the study, to be sure to take the next batch of scones from the oven when they were baked to perfection.  
  
'That son-in-love of yours has been quite helpful in surveying the Westmarch. What a treasure the King has given to the Shire,' Pippin continued.  
  
'How's he managing at the Great Smials?' Sam asked.  
  
'He's hemmed in. Too many hobbits, not enough air to breathe, he says.'  
  
Sam sighed. 'I had hoped he might settle hereabouts, but the country's too tame. He's used to open spaces. They'd probably move out to the new country, if Rose would ever consent to letting Ellie go.' He was silent.  
  
Pippin stirred. 'There's something on your mind, Sam, speak up.'  
  
'That lad has so much ability, he'd be wasted as a homesteader, opening up new territory, managing just his own little farm.'  
  
'That's the truth,' the Thain agreed. 'He has so much energy I don't know what to do with him. Now that the survey's finished and the maps drawn, I can hardly keep sending him out to explore.'  
  
'Could you find a position for him?'  
  
'At the Smials? He'd be invaluable, already has been. But I fear Tuckborough can hardly contain him...'  
  
'Are you thinking about... the new territory?'  
  
The Thain steepled his fingers, deep in thought. 'I had been thinking about that. Hesitated to bring it up, sending Elanor so far from you and Rose. What do you think of my making him Warden of the Westmarch?'  
  
'Warden of Westmarch?' Samwise asked. 'You mean, like Master of Buckland?'  
  
'Something like that.' Pippin grinned. 'Seems as if your family is coming up in the world, Samwise.'  
  
Samwise shook his head. 'I just don't know,' he said. 'The Westmarch is so far away, it would break Rose's heart. Rosie-lass has already moved away to Greenholm with Leotred.'  
  
'I know,' Pippin said. 'His healer's skills were more needed there, than here. Of course, with more and more hobbits moving out to the Westmarch, I suppose he will not be so hard pressed, one of these days. More people means more healers. He and Rosie-lass ought to be able to take a holiday, come back for a visit upon occasion.'  
  
Just then Mistress Rose came in with another plateful of scones. 'These are the last,' she said. 'I hear the children coming.'  
  
'What do you think of Elanor and Fastred going out to the Westmarch?' the Thain asked conversationally.  
  
'For a visit, that's fine,' she answered. She narrowed her gaze at Pippin. 'What are you up to, now? You're not thinking of sending them out there, to live?'  
  
'I had thought about it,' Pippin admitted.  
  
'You just put that thought away,' Rose said sternly. 'You're not sending our grandson off West...' she turned to her husband, 'Sam, he's not...'  
  
'It's all right, Rose,' Sam soothed. 'The Thain's offered Fastred a position in the Smials. Fas might continue to travel back and forth between Tuckborough and the Westmarch, but Elanor will stay at the Great Smials, as she has done.'  
  
'Good,' Rose sighed. 'That's a worry off my mind, let me tell you.' She put the plate down, wiped her hand across her forehead. 'It is hot in that kitchen! Now you folk, eat these up whilst they're still warm.'  
  
'Yes'm,' the Thain said obediently, and hastened to comply.  
  
  
*Shire term for pneumonia, which took the elderly relatively quickly and painlessly


	2. Yuletide at the Great Smials

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating. I had a nice spate of "author replies" typed up when my computer hiccupped and restarted. Ah, well. So you don't have to listen to me blather on, we'll just get right to the story.   
  
O, and by the way, I am now posting new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga...  
  
Look for the next chapter to "FirstBorn", in case you are following that story, and if ffnet agrees, on the morrow.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a cream scone fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**2. Yuletide at the Great Smials**  
  
The Gamgees arrived early at the Great Smials on Last Day, well wrapped up against the chill of the cold air that had descended upon the Shire in the wake of the rains.  
  
'Glad Yule!' the Thain cried, coming out to meet them, followed by Diamond. 'Welcome! We weren't expecting you until teatime.'  
  
'We made good time,' the Mayor answered, young Merry and Pippin jumping down behind him and immediately unloading the baggage. Samwise turned to hand out his wife and daughters.  
  
Elanor and Fastred emerged from the Smials to greet them. 'Mum! Dad! Come on into the Smials before you catch your deaths! There's a fire laid in your sitting room, and I'm sure we can find you a pot of tea, even though high tea is an hour away.' They allowed Elanor to herd them into the Smials, clucking away like a hen chasing her chicks out of the cold, but once inside with the chill shut out by the great doors, the Gamgees turned to the serious business of proper greeting.  
  
'Ellie,' Rose said, giving her eldest a hug. 'Where's that grandson of ours?' she added.  
  
'Asleep,' Elanor said promptly. 'Naptime's too important to interrupt, even for an arrival. You taught me that, down in Gondor, when Prince Imrahil wanted to see Tolman and you made him wait!'  
  
'I didn't!' Rose laughed.  
  
'You did,' Sam said with a smile. 'But the Prince understood... he was a father, himself, of course.' He hugged Elanor in his turn, then extended his hand to Fastred. 'Glad to find you here,' he said. 'Half thought you might be in the Westmarch.'  
  
'For Yule?' Fastred said. 'My wife expects me home for all holidays and birthdays, I'm not sure why.'  
  
Elanor laughed and gave her husband a push. 'I'm not sure why, myself,' she quipped. 'But it is nice to have you underfoot, all the same.' She led the way to the rooms that were kept for the Mayor and his family. True to her word, there was a bright fire on the hearth, and a teakettle was just coming to the boil as they entered.  
  
'There!' Elanor said. 'Take off your wraps and we'll get you all warm and cosy in three shakes.'  
  
'Two, it looks like,' Sam said with a fond smile. His Ellie had certainly grown up.  
  
Fastred took their outer garments and quickly dispersed them on pegs near the entryway to their suite, while Elanor made the tea and served her parents.  
  
'Got anything to go with that?' Frodo said hopefully, and she laughed.  
  
'High tea's in less than an hour,' she pretended to scold. 'The kitchens are in a state of complete bustle. You're likely to be pressed into labour if you went in search of biscuits, at this moment.'  
  
'I shall try not to perish of hunger in the meantime,' Frodo said, though the younger lads looked as if they could not be so patient.  
  
A servant tapped at the door, entering with little Elfstan. 'He woke up, Mistress; hungry like as not.' Elanor took him with a smile and thanks, the servant bobbed a courtesy and departed.  
  
'You're living high!' Merry exclaimed. 'Folk waiting on you, and all!'  
  
'Not me,' Elanor smiled. 'Little Elfstan is the apple of the Thain's eye, and so they spoil him shamelessly. His slightest wish is granted.'  
  
Rose held out her arms for her grandson, but the little one was making hunger hiccups and she must needs soon surrender him again to Elanor, to be nursed into complacency. Once his tummy was full, he was satisfied to be passed from arm to arm, smiling at every one with all the contentment of a well-fed, well-loved babe.  
  
'But it's time for our own tea!' Fastred said, rising and taking the babe on his arm. 'Come along, the Thain expects folk to be prompt.'  
  
'As he should,' the Mayor said approvingly. The little group joined the hobbits moving through the hallways to converge on the great room.  
  
***  
  
The Gamgees found their places at the high table and sat down, waiting for the festivities to commence. Merry Gamgee nudged his brother Pippin, who nodded with a grin as the twain surveyed the riches piled upon the platters. Tea at Bag End usually consisted of a few biscuits or fresh-baked scones, with a more substantial supper an hour or two later, and early to bed. In the great halls, however, the hobbits were more likely to make tea a hearty meal, followed by a light snack ("eventides") at sunset, whereupon the children would be put to bed, and then late supper for adults and tweens halfway between sunset and bedtime.  
  
The Thain's Chancellor entered on his wife's arm, and there was a chorus of "Uncle Ferdi!" from the Gamgee children. He was not really an uncle, nor even a cousin, strictly speaking, but had taken the Gamgee family under his wing from time of the Mayor's first visit to the Smials.  
  
'Well, well,' Ferdibrand Took grinned. 'Nell, I see that your family has safely arrived, and the festivities may begin.' He sniffed the air appreciatively. 'As is only proper; 'twould be a shame for all these delicacies to go to waste.'  
  
'There's not much chance of that,' Elanor said, and the chancellor's face turned to her, eyes seeming to look straight into hers, though an encounter with ruffians beyond the Bounds some years earlier had left him in darkness. Merry and his brother Pippin added their enthusiastic opinions, and the chancellor nodded.  
  
'I'm counting on you,' he said. 'Let there be no waste.' His wife, Pimpernel, led him to her chair, opposite Mayor and Mistress Gamgee, placing his hand upon the back. With a bow and a flourish, he seated her, then found his own chair next to hers, and took it.  
  
A bell sounded, and the rest of the Tooks and guests quickly took their places. Looking around, Samwise observed aloud that the great room was not as crowded as usual, and Ferdi nodded. 'Quite a few have moved out to the new territory,' he said. 'I actually have room to stretch my elbows now.'  
  
The servers were setting out the cosied teapots, and the room quieted in anticipation of the Thain's arrival. Thain Peregrin entered, his wife on his arm, and all the guests rose together and bowed to their host.  
  
'We thank you,' Thain Peregrin said, smiling. 'Welcome to the festivities!' He nodded to Samwise. 'As we have the Mayor here with us, perhaps he would like to say a few words.'  
  
Sam rose and bowed. He said, 'Let the celebration begin!' and sat down again, leaving the Thain at a loss for words.  
  
'Well, you _did_ say "a few",' Sam added, pouring tea for Rose and himself. 'Was that few enough?'  
  
Peregrin chuckled. 'A great economy,' he said. 'We should have you open all the feasts at the Smials.'  
  
Merry Gamgee watched in fascination as Ferdi poured out Pimpernel's tea and then his own, and as Pimpernel passed him the cups, he began to pour out for the rest of his children as well.  
  
'How do you _do_ that?' he said, only to be hushed by his older brother Frodo.  
  
'It's all right, Frodo,' the chancellor said calmly, 'He only sees me pour out on Last Day, after all; the rest of the year the lasses take possession of all the teapots. Now, Merry-lad, listen.'  
  
Though it was difficult with the quiet conversation going on about them, Merry listened intently, while his father poured out for the Gamgees and Ferdi continued to serve his own family.  
  
'The sound...' he said slowly. 'It gets... higher as the cup fills.'  
  
'Good lad!' Ferdi said approvingly. He lowered his voice. 'I used to stick my thumb in at the top, to feel for the tea as I poured, until I discovered the trick of listening. Somehow folk don't care for a thumb in their tea, can you imagine?'  
  
Pimpernel laughed as she served her husband's plate. 'I cannot imagine why,' she said gaily.  
  
It was a festive meal, but Ferdibrand noticed that Goldilocks was quieter than usual. 'And how is my fair-haired lass this day?' he asked. 'Goldi, are you here? I have not heard you speak.'  
  
'I'm here, Uncle Ferdi,' she answered. She didn't have much to say. She had been looking forward to the Yule celebration at the Great Smials, the feasting and dancing, the roasting of mushrooms and bacon on long sticks over the Yule log in the wee hours, the quiet conversation with the other tweens and young unmarried hobbits... but Faramir was not sitting with his family.  
  
Merry, seeing her glance, said, 'And where is Faramir? Is he ill? Pip and I were planning to go shooting with him after tea.'  
  
'He is spending the holiday at Buckland,' Ferdibrand answered. He turned to his wife. 'Nell, my own,' (which is how he distinguished Pimpernel from Elanor).  
  
'Yes, my love?' Pimpernel said brightly.  
  
'Is Goldi still as pretty as the last time we saw her?'  
  
'Oh, Ferdibrand,' Mistress Rose said reprovingly. 'You'll turn her head.'  
  
'Not _that_ head,' Ferdi said with dignity. 'Why, she has as much sense in her little finger as most tweens her age have in their whole being.' He was rewarded with Goldi's laughter, and he smiled. 'That's better,' he said. 'You should laugh more often, Goldi, 'tis a blessing on the ears.'  
  
'Uncle Ferdi, you are incorrigible,' Goldilocks scolded, a smile in her voice.  
  
' "Encourageable", I am that,' he answered cheerily. 'So, will you dance with my Rudivar? I would hate to think of him pining away this night for want of attention.' Rudi groaned but did not comment, while the rest of his brothers were convulsed with laughter.  
  
'Just so long as you don't go planning any weddings,' Goldi said saucily. She subsided under her mother's stern look, but the chancellor only laughed.  
  
'I don't know,' he said thoughtfully. 'How old are you... three-and-twenty, I think? If we start planning now, your wedding could be a grand affair indeed.'  
  
'Don't you dare!' Goldi said, and he chuckled.  
  
'Enough teasing, my love, you are going to pull that leg right off,' Pimpernel chided.  
  
Ferdi affected alarm. 'We must not have that,' he said severely. 'Why, however would she dance with our Rudi?'  
  
'More tea, my love?' Pimpernel diverted him, and he refilled her cup, leaving Goldi for the time being to her own thoughts.


	3. Rocks in the Road

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
FantasyFan, I got your review from SoA!!! Thanks so much for not giving up, I find your reviews thought-provoking and helpful, always giving me deeper insight into stories from an "outside" point of view, that impartial opinion that I cannot always find the detachment to manage. Thanks, also, for pointing out the formatting problem with "Truth" on SoA. I had caught it and wrestled with it when I added a chapter to "FirstBorn" yesterday, but didn't know it had affected "Truth" as well. I'm happy to report that the little beetle that caused that has been removed by one of SoA's guardians.  
  
Hai, I'm almost embarrassed to tell you that while this story deals with Faramir and Goldilocks' relationship, another plot point kind of hijacked the story... so there are nearly 20 chapters where they step into the background, so to speak... but we do get back to them before the end (which I think will be chapter 22. Chapter 21 was just written yesterday, and the loose ends are tying themselves up fairly well).  
  
Bookworm, I find myself fascinated with Ferdi, I must confess.  
  
Aemilia Rose, I am glad you didn't miss the second chapter! Aha, so you have sneaked a peek at the family appendices... it is so much fun to fool with those, figure out how they got there in the end...  
  
Sunhawk, so you never finished "Merlin", eh? Ah, well, these things happen. Glad you're following the new story.  
  
O, and by the way, I am now posting new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
Look for the next chapter to "FirstBorn", in case you are following that story, and if ffnet agrees, on the morrow.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a cream scone fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**3. Rocks in the Road**  
  
Goldi was collecting watercress near the Mill, where the little stream ran into the Water, when she heard a familiar voice behind her. 'Hullo, Goldi-mouldy.'  
  
She spun with a smile, nearly dropping her basket. 'Hullo, Hairy-Farry, what brings you here?'  
  
He cocked an eye at the sky, then back down at her. 'It was such a beautiful day, I got on my pony to ride around the field, but someone left the gate open and we just kept going.'  
  
'Where's your escort?' she asked teasingly.  
  
He looked all about himself as if expecting to find a burly Took in his pocket. 'Hmmm,' he said. 'I _thought_ I'd forgot something.'  
  
Goldi's teasing tone changed to scolding. 'You slipped your escort? Farry! They'll be put on water rations, for not minding their duty to the son of the Thain!'  
  
Faramir shrugged. 'Tolly was putting on weight as it was,' he said.  
  
Shocked, Goldi said, 'I cannot believe you said that!' She huffed and started to turn away, but Faramir said urgently, 'Come now, Goldi, it was a jest! Tolly stopped off at Bag End with a message for the Mayor, and I was to speak to Master Sandyman for my father. Tolly was to catch up with me here, and I saw you with your skirts tucked up, plucking greens from the stream, so I thought I'd give you a shout.'  
  
'It wasn't a nice jest,' Goldi pouted, but soon relented, for Faramir jumped down from his pony, waded into the stream, and began pulling cress and tossing it into her basket as they talked.   
  
'I've missed you,' he said, his eyes on the plants he was picking.  
  
'You were a long time in Buckland,' she answered softly. 'Why didn't you write?'  
  
He straightened abruptly, staring at her. 'I did write,' he said stoutly. 'Why didn't you answer?'  
  
'I wrote,' she said, hurt and confused. 'Ever so many letters, but you never wrote me back.'  
  
'That doesn't make sense,' Faramir said slowly, 'unless...'  
  
'Why would someone stop our post?' Goldi said.  
  
'The Mayor's in charge of the messenger service,' Faramir said.  
  
'And he could stop someone's post by order of the Thain,' Goldi answered. 'Do you think your father...?'  
  
Heedless of wet clothes, Faramir sat down heavily on the bank of the little stream, dropping the cress he'd just plucked from the streambed. 'It's possible,' he said soberly. 'You know how the Tooks gossip.'  
  
'O Farry,' she breathed, her eyes filling with tears. 'Does your father think...?'  
  
'O Goldi,' he answered miserably. 'You know he has to think of his position, and how everything _looks_, for he cannot be an effective Thain if the people do not respect him.'  
  
'And the Tooks won't respect him if his son associates with common hobbits, is that it?' she asked bitterly, turning her back on him in her distress and anger.  
  
'You are anything but common, Goldi,' he said softly, taking her hand, drawing her round again. 'I... I could leave the Smials, you know,' he said, growing bolder.  
  
'Leave the Smials?' she asked, puzzled.  
  
'Leave the Smials,' he said more firmly, 'go to work for a farmer, or an innkeeper, renounce the succession. Who says I have to be Thain after my father?'  
  
'O Farry,' she breathed again, but tears blinded her and she could not meet his eyes.  
  
'Goldi?' he asked, putting a gentle finger under her chin to tip her face up to meet his.  
  
'Could you really do that?' she asked. She read the answer in his face before even he knew what he would say. 'You cannot, you know it. There has to be a Thain to watch over the people, and that is what your father is bringing you up to become.'  
  
'But why do I have to be the one?' Faramir said stubbornly.  
  
'Because you are your father's son,' Goldilocks answered. 'Because you are the hobbit I know you to be, and I could not respect you, were you to be otherwise.'  
  
'You're not making sense,' Faramir said irritably.  
  
'I'm making perfect sense,' Goldi said. She sighed. 'There is no "us", Farry, there cannot be. It is for the good of the Shire, and you know it.'  
  
'No "us",' he said, stricken. They had never spoken out this boldly before, but now he realised that somehow, more and more these past few years, he had been thinking of Goldi in just that way.  
  
'Just "you"... and "me",' Goldi said. At the sight of his face, she softened. 'We can still be friends, you know. There's no stopping friendship.' She put out her hand, and he took it; she leaned forward to kiss him softly on the cheek. 'I see Tolly coming down the Hill,' she said. 'You had better get back on that pony of yours.'  
  
He nodded, swallowing hard as she tried to smile. 'Goodbye, Hairy-Farry.'  
  
Faramir mounted his pony, and as Tolly rode up, he said, 'Goodbye, Mouldy-Goldi!'  
  
'Faramir!' Tolly reprimanded. 'You ought to speak with more respect, when you address a lass!'  
  
'Yes, Tolly,' Faramir said. The two Tooks turned their ponies towards Tuckborough, and Faramir's last glimpse of Goldilocks was of her bending once again to the stream. Before she bent, however, he caught the sparkle of tears in her eyes.  
  
***  
  
Reginard opened the door of the Thain's study to admit the next group of hobbits. He seated each one, offered tea-and-biscuits, sat himself down at his desk and picked up his quill.  
  
'Very well,' Thain Peregrin said, when they had finished with the customary greetings and got past the preliminaries. 'What seems to be the trouble?'  
  
'Woodbine, here, accuses his neighbor of causing him to fall, last evening at the Green Dragon,' the proprietor of the inn said soberly. 'They nearly came to blows in my common room. I could not get them to agree, and so we have come here for you, Sir, to hear the case.'  
  
'I see,' the Thain said soberly. He nodded to Linden, the accused hobbit, who would have a chance to defend himself after all the evidence was presented. Turning to Woodbine, the accuser, he said, 'Tell me your story.'  
  
'He tripped me!' Woodbine blustered, 'stuck out his stick as I was coming along, arms full of mugs, and I fell over it. Near cracked my skull on the table, not to mention the waste of the beer!'  
  
'How many mugs?' the Thain asked conversationally.  
  
'Six,' Woodbine said belligerently, with a glare to his neighbor.  
  
'Six!' the Thain said mildly. 'That is quite a feat!'  
  
'Tripped me,' Woodbine continued, 'and laughed. Laughed! He did! Thought it funny, for me to come a cropper and spill six mugs besides!'  
  
'Well, it were a comical sight,' Linden, the accused, put in. 'Half the room were laughing fit to bust a gut.'  
  
'You'll have your say,' Reginard broke in with a stern look, and Linden subsided.  
  
Thain Peregrin asked questions of each hobbit who'd been there, accuser, witnesses, innkeeper, and finally the accused, who insisted that the whole incident was an unfortunate accident. After he had asked Linden his final question, he sat back and looked across to Chancellor Ferdibrand, who had sat quietly listening from his own desk. Ferdi was shaking his head slightly.  
  
'Ferdibrand,' the Thain said after a pause. 'Do you have any questions?'  
  
'Did Linden bring his stick with him today?' Ferdi asked, slightly tilting his head to one side, as if trying to visualise the scene.  
  
'Yes,' the Thain nodded, after a glance at the accused.  
  
'Tell me, Linden, where is your stick?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'Why, it's under my chair, are you blind? ... where I always put it.' He didn't notice the Thain, the innkeeper, and several other hobbits stiffen.  
  
'Ah,' Ferdi answered. 'Where you always put it. I see.' He turned his face towards the Thain with a smile. 'I have no further questions, Sir.'  
  
Pippin glanced sharply at Ferdi, then took a closer look at the accused. His stick was under his chair, "where he always put it", out of the way of a chance mishap. He nodded, sat straighter in his chair. 'Is there anything else to be said?' he asked the room in general. Heads were shaken, and he nodded again.  
  
'Here is my finding,' he said. Reginard dipped his quill in the inkwell, preparatory to taking down the verdict.  
  
Fixing the accused with a stern eye, he said, 'Linden, I find you guilty of mischief with malice to cause harm.' That hobbit's shocked exclamation was quickly broken off in the face of the looks the other hobbits shot his way; it seemed even his wife was in agreement.  
  
In the silence that followed, Linden tried again. In a trembling voice, he said, 'It were... it were...'  
  
'It was not an accident,' the Thain said flatly.  
  
'No, Sir,' Linden said reluctantly, 'but it were... only a jest, that's all,' he said earnestly. 'I meant it for a jest, no more'n that.' His voice was pleading.  
  
'I near to broke my crown!' Woodbine said vehemently. The Thain stared him into silence.  
  
'Here are the consequences of your actions,' Thain Peregrin continued. 'You are to pay all damages to the innkeeper, for broken mugs, spilt beer, damage to furniture, whatever he deems necessary, and damages to the owners of the six mugs you spilt.'  
  
Linden nodded, but the Thain was not finished. 'Also, you must realise that mischief which leads to harm is not allowed here in the Shire. Small harm can lead to bigger harm can lead to... well, let us just say that no hobbit of the Shire will be allowed to deliberately harm another, while I'm Thain.'  
  
Linden nodded again, gulping, knowing what was coming now. 'Linden of Bywater,' Thain Peregrin said somberly, 'I hereby pronounce upon you, the Ban.' Linden's wife gasped and put her handkerchief to her mouth. Her husband was given to mean little tricks, thinking them funny, but...  
  
'You may speak to no other, and none may speak to you. You must eat your meals in silence, and avoid gatherings, feasts, and festivals. You are under the sentence of shunning, until you return, two months from this date, to hear the Ban against you lifted.'  
  
_Two months_, Linden thought, sick. Two months, for mischief.  
  
'Two months,' the Thain reiterated, as if echoing his thoughts. 'You have two months of silence, in which to think on your actions. I encourage you to use this time to increase in wisdom, and consider your attitude towards the other hobbits who have to associate with you.' He looked at Linden, not without sympathy. 'Do you have any final words to say before the silence begins?'  
  
Linden shook his head miserably. He rose from his chair, bowed to the Thain, picked up his stick, and stiffly walked from the study. In silence, his wife, his accuser, the innkeeper, and the other witnesses followed him from the room.  
  
'Two months,' Ferdi said quietly.  
  
'Better two months, than six for causing bodily harm for his cavalier attitude,' Pippin answered. 'How did you know he was lying, about it being an accident?'  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'There's something about a person's voice, when he is not telling the entire truth,' he said. 'I cannot explain.'  
  
'Ah, well,' Pippin said. 'I guess I ought to be relieved that you can _do_ it, whether or not you can explain it.'


	4. Hodgie, Podgie, Pudding and Pie

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
I appreciate everyone who took time to review chapter 3, but have no time to respond as ffnet was down earlier when I was up before the rest of the family to post this, and now it is dh's turn to use the computer... so I will just quick post the chapter!    
  
O, and by the way, I am now posting new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
Look for the next chapter to "FirstBorn", in case you are following that story, and if ffnet agrees, on the morrow.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a cream scone fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**4. Hodgie Podgie, Pudding and Pie**  
  
Goldilocks had nearly filled her basket when hands covered her eyes and a teasing voice said, 'Guess who!'  
  
She gasped and put up her hands to pull the makeshift blindfold away, but they held firm. 'It's not funny,' she said stoutly. 'Leave off!'  
  
'C'mon,' the voice whined. 'You're not playing the game properly. You're supposed to guess, you know!'  
  
'Hodge Sandyman, if you don't leave hold of me this instant, I'll... I'll...' Goldilocks could not think of a threat dire enough.  
  
The hands were taken away as the youth laughed. 'You'll set your big brother on me? The one as stood firm against those ruffians? Shivered under his cloak, I heard tell,' he ended mockingly.  
  
'You'd shiver too,' Goldi said stoutly. 'And besides, he made up for it in the shooting that came later.'  
  
'O yes,' Hodge jeered, 'it's easy to shoot from cover, when none can see you.' He eyed her speculatively. 'You know,' he said, 'You're very pretty when your blood is up.'  
  
'You have some nerve!' she hissed. 'First you insult my brother and then you try to spread the butter thick...' She took up her basket and started to march away, but he caught her hand and pulled her back.  
  
'I like a little honey with my butter,' he said. 'How about it?'  
  
'I don't know what you're talking about,' Goldi said, trying to pull her hand away.  
  
'You're pretty free with your kisses when it's a son of a Took you're with,' Hodge said nastily.  
  
'You -- you --' Goldi was at a total loss for words.  
  
'How about it?' Hodge repeated. 'Why not spare a little of that honey for the miller's son?' Goldi tried to swing the basket against him, but he grabbed her other hand, forcing her to drop the basket, spilling the cress over the ground.  
  
'Stop it!' she shouted.  
  
'Just one little kiss,' Hodge teased. 'If it's good enough for the son of the Thain, it's good enough for me...' He pulled her closer as she tried to wrest her wrists from his grip.  
  
Suddenly Hodge was knocked sprawling by a furious Frodo Gamgee. 'You -- you beast!' the angry brother said. 'What do you think you were doing? I ought to...'  
  
'Your sister's pretty free with her kisses,' the other spat back. 'She even dropped one in passing on the son of the Thain, and all he came for was to give a message to my dad. Yes, pretty free with those kisses, your sister is. I just thought I'd get one for myself while they're still fresh.'  
  
Goldi was weeping in mingled rage and shame as Frodo turned to her. 'You kissed Faramir?' he asked.  
  
'I was just telling him goodbye,' she managed to say. He met her eyes intently, then turned to Hodge, still on the ground.  
  
'You stay away from my sisters from now on, if you know what's good for you,' he snapped. 'Come on, Goldi, we're going home.' He picked up the basket, ignoring the scattered watercress, took his sister's hand in an iron grip, and led her up the Hill.  
  
Hodge stared after them, anger snapping in his own eyes. 'You may think you're so high and mighty, you Gamgees, but I'll show you...' he muttered to himself.  
  
'Hodge!' he heard his father shout. 'Hodge, what are you doing lolling about on the ground when there's work to be done? You had better get to it before I take my strap to you!'  
  
'I'm coming, Dad!' he shouted back, and got up, dusting himself off. 'I'll show you, Frodo Gamgee,' he said again, and picked up his hammer, to go back to the repairs on the mill wheel that had been interrupted while he watched the little scene between the Mayor's daughter and the Thain's son.  
  
***  
  
'You kissed Faramir Took?' Rose asked. Goldi did not answer, but kept her head down. Rose put a gentle finger under her daughter's chin, lifting until Goldi had to meet her eyes. 'Tell me, love, did you kiss him?'  
  
'I only gave him a peck on the cheek, same's I'd give any of my brothers,' Goldi said hotly. She flashed a glare at Frodo. 'That's all I did.'  
  
'Hodge seemed to think it was more,' Frodo said.  
  
'You'd believe one of those Sandyman grubs over your own sister?' Goldi shot back.  
  
'I'm only telling what I saw and heard,' Frodo said. 'Hodge seemed to think you were free with your kisses. Goldi, you do not want to have a name for that; you know what kind of lads will come around should they hear such talk.'  
  
'It was One Kiss,' Goldi said, fighting back more tears. 'On The Cheek,' she added. 'Nothing more.'  
  
'Even that is too much,' Rose said sternly. 'You know better than that, lass. Faramir may be a nice lad, but he's not your brother, nor even a cousin. He's the son of the Thain, and it's not your place to be dropping kisses in his way.'  
  
'Yes'm,' Goldi whispered, turning her face away. There was no justice in the world, no, none at all.


	5. To See Justice Done

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
Aemilea Rose, yes, I was thinking of that nursery rhyme when I named the character and titled the chapter.  
  
Bookworm, you have a list? O my!  
  
Hai, you can bet that not just her mother, but her father and all the rest know as well, and will be keeping an eye on her (for her own good, of course). Poor Goldi.  
  
Xena, isn't it funny how children don't worry so much about status, unless they're looking for something to tease other children about...?    
  
FantasyFan, I got your review over on StoriesofArda! Thank you so much for your faithful and thought-provoking reviews. As a matter of fact, the "Guess Who" game comes from my childhood. As I wrote you over at SoA, one person sneaks up behind another, covers the other's eyes, and says in the silliest voice possible, 'Guess who!'. Then the silly guesses start...  
  
O, and by the way, I am now posting new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
Look for the next chapter to "FirstBorn", in case you are following that story, and if ffnet agrees, on the morrow. Once "FirstBorn" finishes (there are only two chapters left, y'know), chapters of "Shire" may well begin to appear. It all depends on what the Muse does (or doesn't) on that story.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a cream scone fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**5. To See Justice Done**  
  
It was nearly teatime when a tap sounded at the study door. Hildibold Took stuck his head in, gesturing to the steward. 'I'll be right back,' Reginard said, rising from his desk.  
  
'See if you can find out what's for tea,' Pippin said. 'I'm ravenous.'  
  
'Want me to get you something now?' Regi asked.  
  
'No, it can wait,' Pippin said. 'Don't want to drop crumbs over the papers on my desk, after all.' Regi nodded and left the study. He returned within a few moments, face sober.  
  
'There's another case to be judged, it seems,' he said.  
  
Looking at the steward's face, Pippin became all business. 'Show them in,' he said.  
  
A number of hobbits were ushered into the study, where Regi and Hilly found seats for those who wished them. The last to enter were a grim-faced Shirriff escorting a young hobbit whose wrists were bound together. The prisoner kept his head down, not looking at anyone.  
  
The Thain swept the room with his gaze, noting shock, sorrow, fear.  
  
'Why is he bound?' he asked quietly.  
  
'He killed his brother,' the Shirriff answered. The hobbit mum gasped and put her handkerchief to her face, and the three hobbit lasses in the group began to sob, while two younger lads stood stiff and solemn beside their father, though their red and swollen eyes betrayed them.  
  
'Let us hear the facts of the case,' Pippin said.  
  
At the prompting of the Shirriff, the father began: the two brothers had argued violently that morning early, nearly coming to blows as a matter of fact. They'd had to be forcibly separated by their father, and he had put them on water rations for the day to help cool their tempers and give them cause for thought. Mid-morning, he'd sent them out to hunt for that evening's meal, figuring that working together would help to restore the bond between them.  
  
The Shirriff took up the tale. He'd been walking the woods when he heard a terrible cry; running to investigate, he'd come upon the accused, sitting, holding his stricken brother in his arms. The protruding shaft matched those in his quiver. Despite all the Shirriff could do, the wounded lad died shortly afterwards. The two carried him home, where the Shirriff began to ask questions. When told of the argument, he'd bound the tween and escorted him and his family to the Thain.  
  
Under the Thain's quiet questioning, the other family members confirmed the account of the argument, and that the accused tween had not spoken a word to anyone since the Shirriff found him.  
  
Finally, the Thain addressed the tween. 'Hilbert,' he said. 'You know what the charges are.'  
  
The lad did not raise his head. 'Look at the Thain when he addresses you!' the Shirriff rapped out, and when there was no response, he put out his hand and raised the youth's chin for him. The tween stared straight ahead, dry-eyed, face bleached white with shock.  
  
The Thain continued. 'You know that by rights, if you willfully did this thing, you shall be bound, blindfolded, and carried over the Bounds of the Shire, outcast, a brand on your cheek to warn hobbits that every hand is to be raised against you.'  
  
The hobbit mum gasped again, dissolving into hopeless sobbing while her daughters surrounded her with helpless hugs. The hobbit dad's hands tightened on the shoulders of his two younger sons.  
  
'What have you to say?' Thain Peregrin asked. 'It is your right, before I pronounce your doom, to speak your piece.'  
  
The tween stared straight ahead and made no answer.  
  
The Thain took a deep breath, but before he could speak, Ferdibrand said, 'Wait.'  
  
'What is it, Ferdibrand?' the Thain asked quietly. The chancellor rose from his chair, walked towards the centre of the room. Knowing his infirmity, the Shirriff quietly said, 'Here,' as he approached.  
  
'Where is the lad?' Ferdi asked, stopping before the Shirriff.  
  
'Right here,' the Shirriff answered, taking the outstretched arm and placing Ferdi's hand on the tween's shoulder.  
  
'Ah,' Ferdi said softly. 'There you are, Bert. Tell us, now, lad, tell us your story. You see, I cannot read it in your face, I have to hear it in your own words.'  
  
The tween blinked, his unfocused stare changed as he looked into the chancellor's face. Ferdi was looking just past him, but when the lad took a shuddering breath, the unseeing eyes turned towards his face.  
  
'That's the lad,' Ferdi said encouragingly. 'Tell me what happened. I'm a hunter myself, you know.'  
  
'You're a hunter?' the tween whispered incredulously.  
  
Ferdi smiled. 'Ah, well, not for some years now, they won't let me near a bow these days, for some reason.'  
  
This made the tween gulp back a sob, though he was obviously not grieving for Ferdibrand's loss.  
  
'Tell me, lad,' Ferdi said again. 'You went out to the woods with your brother, and...'  
  
'He went into cover to try to flush some birds,' Hilbert said slowly. 'Suddenly a great pheasant flew up, and he cried to shoot, and I...' He broke off and lifted his bound hands to his face.  
  
'You shot your brother,' Ferdi said matter-of-factly.  
  
'No! No, I shot the bird, but the shaft wasn't true, it...' The lad could not continue for the sobs that shook him. The dry eyes finally yielded their tears as shock and horror turned to grief.  
  
'Let me see the shaft,' Ferdi said, holding out a hand. From his own quiver, the Shirriff withdrew a cloth-wrapped arrow, the head cut off when he worked to draw it from the wound. He placed it in Ferdi's hand. Releasing his hold on the tween's shoulder, Ferdi unwrapped the deadly shaft, running his fingers carefully along its length.  
  
'It is badly fletched,' he said. 'See here,' and the Shirriff bent to look.  
  
'So it is,' he agreed. 'I didn't notice that when I drew it out, I was thinking more of trying to save the lad, and then when I heard of the argument he'd had with his brother, I didn't think...'  
  
Ferdi nodded. 'Cut him loose,' he said, and turning his head towards the Thain's desk, he added, 'with your permission, of course, Sir.'  
  
'Of course,' Pippin said. The Shirriff hurried to comply.   
  
Ferdi carefully replaced the shaft in its cloth shroud, and walked back towards his desk, one hand outstretched, steps sure, for he knew the study well. When he encountered the desk, he made his way to his chair and sat down again. 'I have no further questions,' he said into the silence that had fallen.  
  
'Very well,' the Thain said. 'Hilbert of Tookbank, it seems you have been punished sufficiently for your temper. I am sure that if it were possible, you'd take back every word you flung at your brother this morning.'  
  
'I would,' sobbed the tween. 'O if only I could.'  
  
'You cannot bring your brother back, but you can seek to live your life in a way that will honour his memory, and ease your parents' loss,' the Thain continued. To the Shirriff, he said, 'I see no further need for your services, Nod. I thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.'  
  
'Aye,' the Shirriff said heavily. 'I was only doing my duty.' Turning to the tween, he said, 'I hope you'll check your arrows before you go out shooting in the future.' Clapping his hat with feather in the band back onto his head, he bowed to the Thain, and left the room.  
  
The hobbit dad bowed as well, stammering his thanks. He'd lost only one son this day, where he'd expected to lose two. Putting his arm about the tween's shoulders, he led his family from the study.  
  
'Thank you, Ferdi,' Pippin said. 'You saved me from a grave error, just now.' He drew a shaky breath and ran his hand over his head. 'Regi, if you would please convey my regrets to Diamond for missing tea...' He rose from his chair and added, 'I think I'll take myself off for a ride.'


	6. Frodo Did aCourting Go

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
PansyChubb, it might seem like a no-brainer, but have you ever stopped to consider *why* no hobbit has ever killed another? Perhaps part of it is due to severe preventive measures, ruthlessly weeding out troublemakers and dealing with them, even to the point of banishing them before real trouble can happen. One of the reasons Pippin protects the Shire so fiercely is because he does not want hobbits contaminated with the attitudes he's seen among Men. Perhaps one of his fears is that "there's always a first time". He intends that it won't happen as long as he's Thain.  
  
Xena, I'm not sure I could ever be a judge. It's a bit easier to write about such stuff when I know what went on and don't have to depend upon evidence! One of the purposes of chapter 5 was to show some of the heavy load the Thain lives under, and just why Pippin was in need of a holiday in "Merlin".  
  
Aemilia Rose, Ferdi is a good guy to have around, I think. Sure wish I had him to administrate disputes between the children, it would be nice to have a built-in lie detector.  
  
Bookworm, yes, soldiers are well-known for their gallows humour (or does it have another name amongst soldiers?)    
  
FantasyFan, that was an interesting point you made, about the distinction between justice and mercy. Ferdi certainly isn't distracted by appearances, and in order to understand completely what is going on, he must listen intently and focus his attention; he cannot allow his mind to wander or he'd be "in the dark" figuratively as well as literally. Interesting insight, as well, that Pippin makes a better Thain than Ferdi would. You have hit several key points in your review as well, which I will not name here since they are important in upcoming events, but you'll know them when you see them.  
  
O, and by the way, I am now posting new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
Look for the last chapter to "FirstBorn", in case you are following that story, and if ffnet agrees, on the morrow. Once "FirstBorn" finishes, chapters of "Shire" may well begin to appear. Another story has appeared on the horizon, a sequel to "FirstBorn" as a matter of fact, thanks to a comment by FantasyFan, so we shall see if it is ready to publish before "Shire" or not...  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a cream scone fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**6. Frodo Did a-Courting Go**  
  
_O where are you going this fine day?  
Singing hey, my laddie, laddie ho!  
That's for me to know and none to say,   
Singing ho, my laddie hey!  
Take a look at him, and I am betting   
That come next Spring there will be a wedding,  
Come and pluck the goose for the feather bedding,   
Singing hey, my laddie ho!  
--Courting Song (from the "Shire Songbook")  
_  
[A/N: To hear the music to this song, please go to www.storiesofarda.com and find the story "Shire Songbook", which contains lyrics and links to quite a few songs. For some reason, I cannot put a link in here, even changing the "dots" to asterisks. Ffnet is getting wiser, I think.] 

  
  
Frodo Gamgee took another careful look in the glass in the entryway, adjusting his collar that would not lie straight, for some reason, and running his hand over his hair to smooth down that stubborn curl that had a life of its own.   
  
Merry wandered by, humming a catchy little tune, and Frodo found himself humming along, until Pippin started to sing.   
  
"O where are you going this fine day?" and Frodo recognised the old courting song and broke off his humming.   
  
'That's for me to know and you to wonder,' he answered.   
  
'No!' Pippin laughed, 'that's not right! You're supposed to say, "That's for me to know and none to say..."   
  
Merry broke in, 'Singing ho, my laddie hey!'   
  
Together, the two brothers warbled, 'Take a look at him, and I am betting that come next Spring there will be a wedding, Come and pluck the goose for the feather bedding, Singing hey, my laddie ho!'   
  
From the kitchen, Mistress Rose was heard starting the song over again. 'O where are you going this fine day, singing hey, my laddie, laddie ho!' Other voices joined from various parts of Bag End, and even Frodo was drawn into the song, in the joy of singing one melody against another.   
  
In the kitchen, Goldi bent over the onions she was chopping and brushed a tear from her eye. Surely her mother would think it the fault of the onions, and not the state of her heart. She moved her mouth as if joining in the song, but no sound came from her lips. Thankfully the rest of the family made up for her lack, and no one noticed that one member was not contributing her share of harmony.   
  
The Gamgees finished with a flourish, and Mayor Samwise was heard to say from the back door, 'Now there's a fine greeting to be coming home to! Who's getting married?'   
  
'Frodo!' Merry and Pippin chorused.   
  
'Hush!' Frodo said.   
  
'Look, he's turning red,' Merry said to his cohort in cheek.   
  
Frodo made a fierce face in the glass and the two scampered off, but not before Pippin said over his shoulder, 'Don't be making that face at the Burrows' this evening or Daisy'll find someone else to walk out with!'   
  
'Ah,' Sam said, poking his head in the front entryway. 'So you're walking out with Daisy this evening? We'll miss you at supper.'   
  
'He won't miss us!' Merry chortled from the corridor and Frodo grinned with a shake of his head.   
  
'Just wait,' Sam said. 'They'll hear it from Robin and Tolman when their own turn comes.' Frodo could only hope.   
  
Samwise fixed his eldest son with a serious look. 'Come walk in the garden with me,' he said. 'I'd like your opinion on how we ought to lay out the vegetable plantings this year.'   
  
Away from the hole and its listening ears, Samwise bent down, drawing lines in the dirt as they talked about where to plant the potatoes, and whether the peas would do better in another spot, and all the other things that are of import when your reputation hangs upon your harvest.   
  
Straightening up, the Mayor said, 'How is your business coming?'   
  
'Old Master Proudfoot just hired me to do his garden on Tuesdays and Fridays,' Frodo answered. 'I'm full up to here, and more folk are asking than I have time.'   
  
'Good,' Sam nodded approvingly. 'If you make a name for yourself, soon enough you'll be able to name your own price.' He drew the stick idly along the ground and studied the resulting line. 'Rus Burrows might even make you a partner, and in that case you'll never want for coins. He's the best gardener hereabouts, since my old gaffer died.' Frodo smiled to himself. In his opinion, his dad took the honours.  
  
'I'm putting coins away, Dad,' was all he said. 'It'll be quite a nice little pile, come next year.'   
  
'Next year,' Sam said quietly. 'You'll be of age. Is that what you're thinking? Will you be earning enough to keep a wife and family?'   
  
'More than enough, I think,' Frodo said. 'With what I've put away the past few years, I ought to be able to afford a nice little hole by next Spring, and still have something left over.'   
  
Sam was silent. He pulled his pipe out of his pocket, filled it, tamped it, lighted it and drew on it thoughtfully. Finally, he said, 'You children are growing up. It was only to be expected.'   
  
There was no answer to this, so Frodo took out his own pipe and proceeded to smoke it as they stood in silence, looking over the promise of the waiting garden bed.   
  
Sam took his pipe from his mouth and regarded it solemnly. 'Will you be moving to the new territory? Lots of opportunity there. You can own your own land, make something of yourself.'   
  
Frodo looked at him quizzically. 'You're not telling me to go?' he said.   
  
Sam shook his head. 'It would be to your advantage,' he said. 'Land around here is all settled up, not much for you here.'   
  
'If Mum could hear you talk...' Frodo began.   
  
Sam chuckled. 'She'd put me on water rations for sure,' he said. 'But she's busy cooking supper, and now's as good a time as any to talk.'   
  
Frodo drew on his pipe, blew a smoke ring, watched it dissipate. 'You know, Dad,' he said, 'I know it would be to my advantage to go out to the Westmarch, but it is not my desire. My heart is here, in the hole where I was born, the country around Hobbiton and Bywater.'   
  
Sam relaxed subtly. 'That's good to hear,' he said. 'It'll be yours someday, you know.'   
  
'Mine?' Frodo asked, confused.   
  
Sam took his pipe out of his mouth again, gestured with it to Bag End and its surroundings. 'Yours,' he said. 'You're oldest now, with Elanor married. Her place is with her husband. Had she not married, it would have been hers, of course, but now...' He put his pipe back in his mouth and smoked in silence.   
  
At a loss, Frodo said, 'I... thank you.'   
  
'Don't thank me,' Sam said quietly. 'Thank the one you were named for.' Knocking his pipe out against a stone birdbath, he went into Bag End again, leaving Frodo alone in the garden with his thoughts.   
  
Hearing his mother call the younger girls to come and set the table, he bestirred himself. Nearly suppertime! If he did not hurry, he would be late to supper at the Burrows', and that would not do, no, not at all.


	7. Neither a Borrower Nor a Lender Be

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
FantasyFan, another hobbit wedding? Hmmm, interesting idea.  
  
Xena, I can hear the music in my head. Such fun, to imagine a family singing together (our girls often do...)  
  
Hai, wonder if Daisy has brother(s) giving Frodo grief?  
  
Madeleine541, you made my day with your review. Thanks. The Muse even cracked a smile, astonishing as it is to say!    
  
Aemilia Rose, yes, Frodo is growing up. I feel for Sam every time I look at our own not-so-little ones.  
  
O, and by the way, I am now posting new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
I will update on the morrow if possible (look for first chapter of a new story in the next update). Otherwise, look for an update on Monday. I might be without computer access over the weekend; we'll see. Thanks for your patience.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a cream scone fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**7. Neither a Borrower Nor a Lender Be**  
  
The creaking of the mill wheel lent a pleasant counterpoint to the chuckling water as four of the Gamgee brothers leaned against the wall that ran along the lane coming down the Hill from Bag End. It was a pleasant day in early summer. Planting was done, and all their chores were finished for the morning. After a large dinner midday, they were free to play for an hour or so before taking up their afternoon tasks.  
  
'Let me borrow your knife a minute, Frodo?' Merry Gamgee said absently. He had found a rough spot on one wheel of the little cart he'd carved for Tolman, and as he'd absent-mindedly set his own knife down at home, it wasn't in his pocket at the moment.  
  
Frodo took his pocketknife from his pocket, extending it to his brother. 'Don't forget where that came from, now,' he warned good-naturedly.  
  
'How could I?' Merry laughed, taking the knife and pointing to the initials on the handle. 'F. G. Hmmmm, wonder who that could be? Frodo Gardener, perhaps?'  
  
'That's why he's got all those hobbits hiring him, you know,' Pippin-lad contributed. He imitated a gaffer's drawl. ' 'at's young Gardner, y'know, son of Sam as what made the Shire grow green again after them scurrilous ruffians did their worst!' Merry nearly cut himself as he, Pippin and Tolman doubled over laughing.  
  
'Careful with that!' Frodo said hastily. 'Perhaps you're over young to be trusted with a knife.' Merry gave him a pained look, and he laughed in his turn.  
  
'It's getting so they know the name "Gardner" better than "Gamgee", Pippin said. 'Perhaps we all ought to change our names.'  
  
'What, to drum up business, or honour Dad?' Merry asked, carefully shaving away at the little wheel while Tolman watched closely.  
  
'Whatever would Grandad say?' Pippin said.  
  
'Gardner or Greenhand, he'd be proud,' Frodo answered, getting up from the wall. 'Any name that meant his sprouts were following in his footsteps would give him something cheery to grumble about.' He looked at the angle of the Sun as she slipped from her high perch and began her descent. 'Well, my dinner's settling nicely, and old Mr Proudfoot will be expecting me. See you at suppertime!'  
  
He received a chorus of farewell from his brothers, and whistling jauntily, bundle of tools over his shoulder, he set off down the lane.  
  
'Try that,' Merry said, handing the little cart to Tolman. The youngest Gamgee solemnly ran the cart on the lane while Merry watched critically. 'No,' Merry said slowly, getting down on his hands and knees for a closer observance. 'That wheel is still not true. Dunno why it's giving so much trouble!'  
  
'Maybe you ought to carve a new one,' Pippin said helpfully.  
  
Merry shook his head stubbornly. 'No, I ought to be able to make this one work,' he said stubbornly. Picking up the cart again, he took off the offending wheel and the good one, and holding them together, carefully shaped the culprit to match the other.  
  
'That ought to do it,' Pippin said approvingly. 'Don't know why you didn't match them sooner.'  
  
'Because I was in haste,' Merry said, 'and thought I could do it by guess.'  
  
'Work haste'd is work wasted,' Tolman quipped, and his older brothers laughed.  
  
'That's right, Tom,' Merry said, putting down Frodo's knife to fasten both wheels to the cart again. 'There you go, good as any you'll see at market.'  
  
'Better try it out to make sure,' Pippin warned.  
  
'Let us do that,' Merry laughed, and he got down on hands and knees in the lane again to watch Tolman draw the cart along.  
  
'That's just prime, Merry!' Pippin exclaimed, bending low himself to see. 'You've a real way with a knife!'  
  
'Faramir taught me,' Merry said absently.  
  
'Wonder why we don't see him anymore?' Pippin said.  
  
'I dunno. His da keeps him busy, I s'pose.'  
  
'Does he have to weed the garden, and milk the cow, and feed the chickens?' Tolman asked.  
  
'Something like that,' Merry laughed. 'Come on, Tom, let us get some string from Mum and yoke your little ox to the cart, then you'll be all ready for market.' He picked up the little ox he'd carved previously, while Tolman got his cart and Pippin sauntered along behind them, hands in his pockets, whistling.  
  
Some time later, a hobbit coming up the lane saw the knife, abandoned atop the wall, and stopped. He picked it up, running his hand appreciatively along the fine blade. 'Be a shame to lose this,' he said to himself. 'I wonder how I'll get it back to its owner?'  
  
He wiped the blade and folded it back into its resting place, weighing the knife in his hand. 'A right fine tool,' he said, racking his brains to think where he might have seen such a knife before. Turning it over in his hands, he came across the scratched initials. 'F.G.' he said to himself with a scowl. 'I know who that is, one as thinks too highly of himself, for certain.'  
  
He thought things over. The right thing to do would be to go to Bag End, hat in hand, turn over the knife, receive thanks from its owner, but he didn't fancy kowtowing to the likes of those Gamgees. Besides, there was an idea growing in the back of his head. Yes, it might work. He might be able to use this knife to take its owner down a peg or two, after all.  
  
O, he'd return the knife to Frodo, all right. In truth, he would...


	8. Don't Count Your Chickens

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
Bookworm, of _course_ I didn't mention the name. * grin *  
  
FantasyFan, the quick review from ff.net worked in a sense—it showed up on ffnet, though not in my mailbox. I have to admit I mis-took your meaning at first ("if Pippin has to be the judge")—I thought you might be casting aspersions on Pippin's judgment, especially after the shooting debacle. But then my brain kicked in (and I haven't even had my morning cup of tea yet) and I understood. Ah, yes, foreshadowing, No, wait, you were referring to the story summary. Perhaps I really ought to brew that tea.  
  
Got your other comments on SoA, thanks for the thoughtfully written review. You could tell your son to remember the peaceful nature of hobbits; they may be capable of malice but not deliberate injury. Glad to hear he's thinking ahead, though, trying to forecast future events. Interesting comment about whom the Shirefolk honour; you know, I think that Sam was much admired for his causing the Shire to bloom again, and Pippin and Merry were admired for their fine parties and flashy attire, more than their deeds in the outlands. Hobbits are so insular, as a rule. Your comments about Farry-Goldi and a conspiracy of Gamgees were fascinating, but sad to say, the story is already written to the end so such a lovely thought will have to wait, perhaps for a future story. And Merry laughing—you know it had not struck me, but he lives up to his name. Serendipity is lovely.  
  
Xena, the Gamgee brothers seem to have inherited their dad's good sense. Their interaction is fun to write.  
  
Aemilia Rose, I hate cliffhangers, too, but at least with my own stories I know what comes next. Poor dear.   
  
Hai, yes, seems as if both Frodo and Merry aren't going to think of the missing knife again unless one of them wants it, or it turns up somewhere else.    
  
 I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
I will update the new story, "Runaway" on the morrow if all goes well. This story has taken quite an unexpected turn in the writing and I wait as anxiously as anyone to see what the outcome shall be. Look for chapter 8 to "Truth" the day after.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**8. Don't Count Your Chickens**  
  
'Two months you say? Two months under the Ban!'  
  
'That's right,' Ted Sandyman said sententiously. 'He broke six mugs of beer, after all.' He took a sip from his thankfully intact mug. Old Linden was not poking his stick at folks' legs these days, as a matter of fact, he wasn't even coming round to the Green Dragon for a mug lately. What would be the use? ...unable to say a word to anyone, and nobody talking to him...  
  
'Aye, and you got paid for the one of yourn he broke,' an old gaffer said.  
  
'That I did,' Ted said righteously. 'One thing you can say for the Thain, he does things up right, for all he went off to foreign parts and come back taller than any self-respecting hobbit oughter be.'  
  
'You still singing that old song?' Tom Cotton said, sitting down next to the miller. 'I'd figure you'd've learnt a new verse or two...'  
  
'What're you on about?' Ted grumbled pleasantly.  
  
'How about him adding the Westmarch on to the Shire? Good, rich land... two of my sons have gone out West and have farms of their own now.'  
  
'O yes,' Rusty Burrows said, 'and let us not forget the son of the Thain, making free with the lasses of Hobbiton and Bywater...'  
  
'I'd heard 'twas the other way around,' Ted said with an unpleasant gleam in his eye, 'That he was standing talking with a lass and she threw herself at him.'  
  
'Understandable, I s'pose,' Ches Claybank put in. 'After all, he'll be Thain someday, sitting on all that gold, hobbits bowing to him and hanging on his every word.'  
  
'He'd be a catch, all right,' Rusty agreed.  
  
'What lass?' the old gaffer asked.  
  
'Goldi Gamgee,' someone answered. Rusty Burrows gave a shocked exclamation; after all, the Mayor's son was walking out with his eldest daughter. He didn't like the sound of this.  
  
'The Mayor's daughter?'  
  
'The same,' Ted said with a shake of his head. 'Blood tells, you know. He may be mayor, sure enough, but blood tells...'  
  
'You got something against gardeners?' Rusty Burrows snapped.  
  
Ted Sandyman backed down quickly. Rusty had his share of muscles from digging and spading and wrestling weeds out of the ground. 'No, naught, of course not,' he said. 'But her father went off to foreign parts, you remember, as no decent self-respecting hobbit oughter.'   
  
Though it went against the grain, Ted put a coin down and motioned to the serving lass to bring Rusty another mug, on him. Mollified, the gardener sipped his beer and nodded thanks.  
  
'I hear your Daisy's walking out with the Mayor's son,' Ches said. 'He showing any signs of taking hisself off to the outlands?'  
  
'Naw,' Rusty said. 'Lad's solid, got sense like the old gaffer did before him.' He raised his mug to the memory of old Hamfast Gamgee and added irrelevantly, 'There's one hobbit who knew his potatoes... Now what was I saying? O yes... When I asked him if he were going out to the new land, he said, "What for? Got everything I need right here!" Sensible, he is.' He received a general murmur of agreement, especially among fathers who'd lost their sons to the allure of a holding of their own.  
  
There was a chorus of welcome as several more hobbits arrived, the Mayor's three older sons among them.  
  
'Frodo-lad, come sit here, I've got your mug waiting,' Rusty said, and the other hobbits exchanged knowing glances. There looked to be a wedding in the offing. The lad would reach his majority after the New Year...  
  
Frodo joined the grown hobbits, sipping his mug appreciatively. It had been a long day of digging, and he was ready to relax. Merry and Pippin sat down with their own half-pints to listen to the talk. They'd nurse them as long as they could, for at their age it was all they'd get.  
  
'You having any trouble with foxes?' Ted said suddenly to the air. The hobbits around him scratched their heads, gave the question due thought, and then Ches answered, 'What are you on about, Ted?'  
  
'Lost some hens this week,' Ted said. 'Something got in and took them out. Twice in one week, my youngest has gone out to feed 'em in the morning and found one missing.'  
  
'How'd he get in? Don't you coop 'em up at night?' the old gaffer asked.  
  
'Of course I do, I'm not daft!' Ted snapped. 'Dunno yet how he got in, unless he lifted the latch.'  
  
'A fox?' the gaffer laughed. 'Check your fence. He's probably digging under somewheres and you missed it.'  
  
'Aye, and if there's the least little hole up under your coop he can slip through, them foxes are tricksy that way,' Rusty said.  
  
'What about a stoat?' Ches put in. 'They can slip through smaller holes than foxes.'  
  
'You'd all better check your fences and coops,' Ted said gloomily. 'Two in one week.' He brooded in his near-empty mug until another magically appeared before him.  
  
'Drink up,' Ches said kindly. 'Fox cannot lift the latch, after all, nor stoat for that matter. Likely you'll find a hole under your wire on the morrow, patch it up, and no more hens go missing.'  
  
Ted nodded thanks and took up the fresh mug. He sipped, a pleasant glow spreading through him as the talk washed around him.  
  
'Where's Hodge this night?' Ches asked, seeing the Gamgee tweens at their table with a few others from the area. 'Don't he usually come down with you? He's old enough for half a pint after a long day.'  
  
'He's guarding the henhouse,' Ted said. 'If he don't fall asleep, we may find out who's stealing hens.'  
  
'What's stealing them, you mean,' Ches corrected.  
  
'Whatever,' Ted said, sipping his beer.  
  
'Where's the Mayor this fine evening?' the gaffer asked.  
  
Frodo answered, 'He's down in Southfarthing for their strawberry festival. He'll be back in a day or two.'  
  
'Strawberry festival?' the gaffer said, surprised. There were no strawberries ripe around Bywater.  
  
'They're warmer than we are here, remember,' Rusty said knowledgeably. 'Their season is ahead of ourn.'  
  
'Ah, yes, that's right,' the gaffer said. He smacked his lips. 'Could use a fresh berry or two right now. Getting right tired of preserves.'  
  
'Spring's near done, summer'll be here before you know it,' Rusty said, finishing off his beer. He rose and clapped Frodo on the shoulder. 'Which reminds me, tomorrow's an early day, got lots of hoeing to do, so I'm off.'  
  
Frodo took the hint and, taking a last sip of his own beer, he rose.  
  
'Thanks for the mug, Rusty,' he said shyly. He still wasn't used to calling Daisy's father by his first name.  
  
'You're very welcome, lad. You keep working as hard as you did today and we'll have the biggest gardening business in this part of the Shire.' He put an arm around the younger hobbit's shoulders and the two walked out companionably, talking over plans for the morrow's work.  
  
'Meant to ask him if his dad's going for Mayor again,' the old gaffer said.  
  
Ches shot him a keen glance. 'You traipsing off to Michel Delving to vote?'  
  
The old gaffer puffed out his chest. 'Of course I am,' he declared. 'Allus do. Iffen I'm going to complain about 'im, then I'd better have a hand in the voting, or I ain't got no right to complain, now, do I?'  
  
'Mid-year Fair's not that far away,' the innkeeper put in, wiping a spill on the next table. 'I'm closing down the Dragon, week after next, going to the Fair, going to vote for Mayor Samwise. He's been a good 'un.'  
  
There were general cries of "Hear, hear," and Merry and Pippin Gamgee were gratified to join in drinking a toast to their dad.  
  
***  
  
The next morning at breakfast, Frodo mentioned the miller's problem with disappearing chickens. Sam turned to young Robin. 'Have we had any chickens go missing?' he asked.  
  
'No, Dad, there's just as many as ever,' Robin said. Of course, he'd never counted them, but there was no dearth of chickens flapping from the coop when he opened the door of a morning.  
  
'Well, check the fencing and the coop,' Sam said. 'We don't want to start missing any.'  
  
'Yes, Dad,' Robin said obediently.


	9. The Trap is Sprung

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
Bookworm, ooo, are you a mystery-reader, by chance?  
  
Xena, I often wish I had Sam's good sense, and that my home was as neat and tidy as Bag End is said to be, with a smell of good things baking and no piles of laundry to fold. Ah, well, at least we have clean clothes to wear. Keep hold of that idea in your head and let me know if it turned out true to the unfolding story.  
  
Aemilia Rose, looking for clues? Keep it up, they will be sprinkled here and there.   
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
I will update the new story, "Runaway" on the morrow if all goes well. This story has taken quite an unexpected turn in the writing and I wait as anxiously as anyone to see what the outcome shall be. Look for the next chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**9. The Trap is Sprung**  
  
Two more hens disappeared from Ted Sandyman's flock over the next two days, despite all his efforts, good layers they were, too. He expressed his frustration in the Green Dragon on each occasion, but his neighbors could only shake their heads in sympathy. None of them was missing any chickens.  
  
Ted himself watched over the coop after the fourth disappearance, but saw nothing, and it made him so sleepy the next day that he nearly ground one of his hands into meal. Grumbling to himself, he took himself off to bed early that night, leaving his middle son, Ned, to watch.  
  
Hodge awakened the next morning to his father's irate shouts. 'Fell asleep! Some watch you set! Anyone could've waltzed past you and taken the whole flock!'  
  
Hodge pulled on his clothes, splashed cold water on his face from the pitcher on the dresser, and emerged blinking into the dawn light. 'What is it, Dad?' he asked.  
  
'Ned here fell asleep! Had there been ruffians about we'd've been murdered in our beds! What sort of...'  
  
'Nothing happened, Dad,' Ned said reasonably. 'Look, we'll open up the door and you'll see, they'll all be there.'  
  
'They had better be,' Ted said threateningly.  
  
'They will be!' Ned said easily.  
  
'For your sake, I hope so,' Hodge murmured, as their father passed into the chicken yard and pulled the little door aside.  
  
The boys had a hard time containing their snickers as their father called in a sweet, coaxing falsetto. 'Come chicks! Come chicks! Come, my pretties, come!'  
  
Hens began to emerge, and Ted turned to pick up the bucket of cracked feed, scattering handfuls as he continued to croon to his fowl. He was proud of his flock; his hens had won prizes at the Litheday Fair in Michel Delving for several years running, and he had great hopes for the rooster this year.  
  
Finally no more beaks appeared in the doorway.  
  
'See, they're all here,' Ned said.  
  
'Are they?' his father answered ominously. 'I count one hen missing... and where's the rooster?'  
  
Ned and Hodge started. Their father had the right of it, the rooster was not to be seen amongst the busy breakfast-scratching biddies. As the two let themselves into the pen, for all the good it would do, the miller undid the latch on the big hobbit-sized door that allowed entry to collect eggs from the nesting boxes.  
  
No reluctant rooster came into view. The only fowl in the henhouse resided within shells, awaiting collection from the nesting boxes.  
  
Ted swore as he stumbled over something.  
  
'What's that?' young Ned asked. He bent to pick something off the floor.  
  
'Let me see that,' Ted said, holding out his hand. He examined it with a frown. 'A knife?' he said. 'Did one of you lads lose a knife while gathering eggs?'  
  
'Got mine right here in my pocket,' Hodge said, and Ned patted his own pocket with a nod.  
  
'Huh,' Ted said, stepping out into the brightening light. He turned the knife over in his hand and traced the scratches on the handle, saying slowly, 'F.... G.... Now who could that be?'  
  
Hodge scratched his head. 'F. G.?'  
  
'That's right,' the miller nodded.  
  
Hodge said, 'All I can think of is Fastred Greenhand, of Greenholm. But he's not been around these parts in months. Spends all his time at the Great Smials, when he's not off traipsing about the Westmarch.'  
  
Ned narrowed his eyes. 'Can't be,' he said.  
  
Hodge nodded. 'You're right,' he said. 'No way it could be the Mayor's son-in-love.'  
  
'That's not what I meant,' Ned said. 'Don't you remember, last year in the Dragon, Frodo was talking about how he'd broke the blade on his pocketknife? Fas was visiting at the time, and he pressed his own knife on Frodo. I remember, 'cause he'd scratched his initials on it, and they were the same as Frodo-lad's.'  
  
'You're not saying...' Hodge said.  
  
Ned nodded, a sick look on his face, 'That's exactly what I'm saying,' he said.  
  
'Well, now, that's a fine kettle of fish,' the miller said grimly. 'Come along, lads. I think we need to pay a visit to the Shirriff.'  
  
***  
  
The Shirriff was just sitting down to breakfast, and invited the miller and his two elder sons to join him. Ned and Hodge looked hopefully at the platter of fluffy scrambled eggs, the bacon done to a turn, the toast in its rack, and all the other mouthwatering foodstuffs on display, but the miller waved his hand, saying, 'Thanks, Nod, but there's serious trouble afoot.'  
  
Nod put down his fork and said, 'Must be, for you to let this masterpiece grow cold. Now, sit, Ted, and tell me what's what. If I waste this my wife will put me on water rations for the rest of the day.'  
  
The miller reluctantly sat, and his sons gleefully loaded the plates that Nod's wife provided with a smile. Their enthusiasm warmed her heart, poor motherless lads that they were, who knew what kind of meals their father scratched together at the mill?  
  
Ted Sandyman waved aside a plate of his own, accepting only a cup of tea, Nod noted as his own fork moved regularly between plate and mouth. The miller was truly disturbed about something.  
  
'So what's the trouble?' the Shirriff said. Things had been pretty quiet the past fortnight, for which he was extremely grateful. He still hadn't got over nearly banishing that tween for the accidental shooting of his brother.  
  
Ted Sandyman explained. Halfway through his breakfast, the Shirriff's appetite suddenly deserted him. He pushed his plate away, pulled out the cloth that was tucked into his collar, wiped his mouth, and threw the cloth down. 'Are you certain?' he demanded.  
  
'Ned here says he remembers the knife from last year,' the miller said.  
  
' 'Twas a whole year ago,' the Shirriff said slowly. 'A whole year...' he took the knife that Ted held out, turned it over in his hand. Rising abruptly, he said, 'Let's go over to your place, I want to take a look around. Then we'll head up to Bag End, ask Master Frodo Gardner if he can put a hand on his pocket knife.'


	10. The Shirriff Investigates

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
I am sorry, I do not have time for author comments this morning (it is a weekend, lots of folk are at home, and there is heavy competition for the internet around here) and still get the chapter posted, so am just putting up the chapter. I do, however, really appreciate your comments!  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
I will update the new story, "Runaway" on the morrow if all goes well. The story finished itself last night, coming in at a nice round 20 chapters. Look for the next chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...  
  
***  
  
**10. The Shirriff Investigates**  
  
Goldi opened the door at the Shirriff's knock. 'Hullo, Nod,' she said cheerily.  
  
'Is the Mayor in?' Nod asked, without an answering smile. Goldi's own smile faded.  
  
'Yes, he's at breakfast,' she said, but turned as Sam's voice was heard from the corridor.  
  
'Just finished, as a matter of fact,' Mayor Samwise said. 'Nod? Would you like a bite?'  
  
'No, Sir,' Nod answered, and Sam straightened slightly at his formality.  
  
'Come on into the study, then,' the Mayor said, gesturing for the Shirriff to enter, and then nodding to the Sandymans behind him. 'Ted,' he said. 'Hodge, Ned, come in.' He turned to his daughter. 'Goldi, bring a pot of tea to the study...'  
  
'No need,' the Shirriff said, and the Mayor's look of surprise was quickly replaced by thoughtful concern. He'd wait until they were in the study, with the door firmly closed, to ask, of course.  
  
'Goldi, make sure the children are busy about their chores,' was all he said.  
  
'Yes, Dad,' she answered, bobbing to the Shirriff and the miller, avoiding the tweens' eyes, and escaping to the kitchen. Sam heard Rose's voice raised in query, and Goldi's murmur in answer as he led the others to the study.  
  
Once the door was safely closed behind them, he turned to the Shirriff. 'What's this all about, Nod?' he asked. He certainly hoped it wasn't as bad as the shooting accident a fortnight ago.  
  
Nod took the knife from his pocket, held it out. 'Have you ever seen this before?' he asked.  
  
Sam took the knife, turned it over in his hand. 'It looks like Frodo's, that he got from Fastred last year,' he said slowly. 'But what are you doing with it?' He looked to Ted Sandyman and his sons, but the lads would not meet his eyes, and the miller pointedly directed his attention back to the Shirriff. This was official business of the Shirriff, then, and the miller was a witness.  
  
'Had you heard that chickens have been going missing?' Nod asked.  
  
Sam nodded slowly. 'Yes, there was talk down at the Dragon about it, Merry and Pippin-lad told me. A fox or stoat, they said. I had the lads double-check the fence and coop, and we've had no losses.'  
  
'Ted here's lost several hens, and now his prize rooster,' Nod said soberly.  
  
'Ah, Ted,' Sam said sympathetically, turning to the miller. 'I'm sorry to hear that.'  
  
'You'll be sorrier before the morning's out,' Ted said, but not unpleasantly. There was real regret in his tone. He had sons of his own, he knew a father's feelings; and he knew very well what was about to happen to the Gamgee family, having gone through it himself after the scouring of the Shire.  
  
Sam shot him a puzzled look before the Shirriff claimed his attention again. 'I'm sorry, Samwise...'  
  
'What does this have to do with Frodo's knife?' Sam asked. Nod held his hand out and Sam returned the knife to him. The Shirriff pocketed the knife once more. 'Well, Nod?'  
  
'It was found in Sandymans' coop this morning,' Nod answered. 'after a hen and the prize rooster disappeared in the night.'  
  
Sam stood, a polite half smile on his face, absorbing the information, but the smile turned to a look of shock as he comprehended the Shirriff's meaning.  
  
'No!' he said, stepping back, looking from Nod to Ted. 'You cannot mean...'  
  
'I need to talk to Frodo,' Nod said, 'and take a look into your own coop, if I may.'  
  
'I...' Sam said, then nodded. Going to the study door, he jerked it open and called down the tunnel. 'Rosie!'  
  
His wife poked her head out the kitchen door, a towel in her hands. 'Yes, Sam?' she asked cheerily. Goldi had been unable to tell her the reason for the Shirriff's visit, but it would evidently be short, since he'd turned down the offer of tea. Perhaps they'd already concluded their business and were wanting tea after all.  
  
'Has Frodo-lad left yet?' he asked.  
  
'No, he's just spading in our own garden before going off to the Burrows',' she answered.  
  
'Send him here, will you, my dear?' Sam asked, keeping his tone light. No need to worry Rose just yet.  
  
Rose told Goldi to fetch her brother, then turned back to ask, 'Did you want some tea?'  
  
'No, thank you, Rosie, we won't be much longer,' Sam answered.  
  
As soon as Frodo was there, they closeted themselves in the study once again.  
  
'Hullo, Shirriff, Mr Sandyman, Hodge, Ned,' Frodo greeted each in turn. He shot a questioning look at Sam, who directed his gaze to the Shirriff.  
  
'Frodo, I'd like a look at your pocket knife, if I may,' Nod said matter-of-factly. There was no accusation in his tone. After all, there might be two knives in existence with the initials "FG" scratched upon the handle. You never could tell.  
  
Frodo's hand went to one of the buttoned pockets of his work coveralls. His nonchalant look turned to puzzlement as he brought out his hand, empty. 'That's funny,' he said. 'I always keep it in that pocket so it won't fall out whilst I'm weeding...'  
  
'When was the last time you used it?' Nod asked.  
  
Frodo scratched his head. 'A few days ago,' he said finally. 'I had to cut some twine, when I planted climbing beans over in Mr Proudfoot's garden. But I hadn't needed it since then... Been busy digging, don't need a knife for that.'  
  
'Ah,' Nod said. 'Is there anywhere else you'd keep it?'  
  
Frodo screwed up his face in concentration, then shook his head. 'When these coveralls go into the wash, I put it on the nightstand,' he answered, 'but the coveralls aren't in the wash, now, are they?'  
  
'Let's check your nightstand,' Nod said. Frodo shot another puzzled glance at his father, but Sam nodded. They all trooped to the room Frodo shared with Merry and Pippin, saw that the top of the nightstand held no knife, watched Frodo open the drawer and rummage through the neatly organised contents, then sit back.  
  
'Well, that's a shame,' he said. 'Seems as if I've lost a good knife.'  
  
'Have you any idea where it might be?' Nod asked. 'Did one of your brothers borrow it? Would one of them have taken it from the nightstand?'  
  
'Not without asking leave,' Frodo said, and Sam nodded. His lads did not take what didn't belong to them.  
  
Frodo looked up at the others from where he'd sat on the bed to go through the drawer. 'What's all this about, anyhow?'  
  
Nod took the knife from his pocket and held it out to Frodo. Sam took a breath as if to speak, but the Shirriff shot him a cautionary glance and he subsided.  
  
'My knife!' Frodo said in surprse, taking it from the Shirriff's hand. 'But... what are you doing with it?'  
  
Nod didn't answer this question, saying instead, 'Let us go and look at your chickens, shall we?'  
  
Frodo looked to his father, but Sam only shook his head. Obviously the Shirriff was on about something, and Frodo knew it would have to come out eventually. He got up from the bed.  
  
'Who tends your chickens, Sam?' Nod asked conversationally.  
  
'Robin,' Sam answered.  
  
'Would he notice if things were amiss?' Nod asked.  
  
'He ought...' Sam started to say, but Frodo snorted.  
  
'Frodo?' Nod said.  
  
'His head's always in the clouds, dreaming of some adventure of other,' Frodo said.   
  
Sam shook his head. 'He ought to notice,' he finished the thought, 'but Frodo's right. All too often the lad's in a dream.'  
  
The chickens were still shut up, as a matter of fact, for Robin had gone to fill a bucket and been distracted by the workings of the pump handle. He was thinking he might be able to bring water right into the kitchen, without the use of buckets, when the Shirriff's little group hailed him.  
  
'Robin, the Shirriff here has a few questions about the chickens,' Sam said.  
  
'Chickens?' Robin asked, his mind still on pumps and pipes.  
  
'Yes, have any gone missing? Have you noticed anything.... different?' Nod asked.  
  
Robin rubbed the back of his neck. 'No,' he said slowly. 'As a matter of fact, we seem to be getting a few more eggs than we had been, so we can't be down any layers.'  
  
'Ah,' Nod said wisely. He led the way to the chicken yard, opening the gate, then walked in, followed by the others.  
  
'What's he on about?' Robin asked Frodo, who shrugged in reply. Curious young Gamgees looked up from their nearby labours to watch.  
  
The Shirriff didn't bother with the little door, though he could hear the hens inside, and then the unmistakable crow of a rooster.  
  
'What in the name of...?' Sam said, starting forward. Turning to Robin, he added, 'I thought old Cockspur died last week.'  
  
'He did,' Robin said. 'We don't have a rooster, not until the latest hatching of chicks grow up.'  
  
'It seems you have a rooster now,' Nod said quietly, opening the big door, surprising the hens, who were gathered about the small door awaiting their release.  
  
Ted Sandyman gave an exclamation as he recognised his prize rooster.  
  
Nod turned grimly to Frodo, taking him by the wrist with one hand, digging a short length of rope from his pocket with the other. As he bound the astonished young Gamgee before his father, the witnesses, and the other Gamgees watching nearby, he said the traditional words, 'Frodo Gamgee, also called Gardner, I hereby charge you with thievery...'


	11. Bound and Determined

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! Very helpful, quite motivating.   
  
I am sorry to say that I am having my fingers surgically removed from the keyboard. But seriously, why don't they give you a loaner computer when yours goes into the shop, like car repairs? If all goes well, I will be computerless for a week. Please think good thoughts about my computer... I might be able to sneak in an update on "Runaway" on the morrow before they pry me away.  
  
Reader Poll: Are you tired of Ferdi angst? (your answers will be taken into consideration in stories currently under construction)  
  
Madeleine, sorry, it will not be resolved in the next chapter, or the next, as the story is already written. You will see more of Farry and Goldi, but not for a while as we deal with Frodo's difficulties.  
  
Bookworm, even writing it was a shock. And yes, there seems to be malice going on behind the scenes.  
  
Xena, thanks for the faithful reviews. I so appreciate your taking the time to comment, and the kind words. One of my stories is not going well at the moment, having two alternate endings, which I'm having difficulty choosing between. (One involves quite a bit of "Ferdi angst" – I can just see readers rolling their eyes and saying "another false accusation? Why don't these hobbits get a clue! If I were Ferdi I'd remove to Gondor…" -- and the other lets him off the hook before things get too bad. See reader poll, above.)  
  
Hai, Merry seems to be in the wrong spot at the wrong time.  
  
Aemilia Rose, the perpetrator must be shaking in his boots by now. O wait, hobbits don't wear boots.  
  
FantasyFan, "Deliberate malice bordering on harassment", nice turn of phrase, I hadn't thought of that. You're right about the Shire, they are old-fashioned about these things, i.e. a suspect is "guilty until proven innocent". Nice guesses about the chickens.  
  
Miriel, poor Sandyman, to have to live with such a reputation. "A good name is better than gold". Thanks for reviewing!  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...  
  
See you in a week!  
  
***  
  
**11. Bound and Determined**  
  
Goldilocks passed the open kitchen door on her way to hang the cups on their hooks. As she glanced out, she was arrested by the sight of the Shirriff lifting the latch on the chicken house.  
  
'What in the world does the Shirriff want with our chickens?' she murmured.  
  
'Goldi, stop loitering about, we still have all the rest of the breakfast dishes to wipe and put away,' Rose scolded, adding, 'I'd heard someone was missing some hens, some fox or somewhat was plundering chickens in the area. Perhaps the Shirriff is getting up a hunting party.'  
  
She gasped as Goldi dropped the cups she was holding. 'Goldilocks Gamgee!' she snapped. 'Whatever are you about, smashing good cups like that...'  
  
Goldi's eyes were wide as saucers and she stood stock still. 'Mum,' she breathed, 'Nod's binding Frodo!'  
  
'You be proper and respectful, girl, and call him "Shirriff" as befitting your age,' Rose said, her daughter's words not registering until she reached the doorway. As she bent to start picking up the shattered bits of crockery, her eyes fell on the scene outside and she froze as well.  
  
Sam was arguing with Nod, who'd taken Frodo by the arm and was leading him from the chicken pen. Robin had been snagged by Ted Sandyman; the twain were going over the chickens carefully. Ted picked up first one hen, then another, handing them to his sons. He gave another to Robin, and tackled the rooster himself.  
  
Nod stopped and turned to the miller. 'How many did you find?'  
  
'Three hens are mine for certain,' Ted said, 'and the rooster, of course. But five hens went missing altogether.'  
  
'Have you had a chicken dinner in the last week?' Nod asked Sam soberly.  
  
'Of course,' Sam said, 'we always do, on Rest Day.'  
  
'Were they your chickens?' Nod pressed. 'Who slaughtered 'em?'  
  
Sam's face was turning red; he opened his mouth but no sound emerged.  
  
'I did,' Frodo answered. 'I always kill and pluck the chickens.'  
  
'And were they yours?' the Shirriff persisted, then shook his head. 'I don't even know why I'm asking,' he said. 'If you stole them, you'd hardly tell me you killed and plucked them.'  
  
'I didn't steal them!' Frodo said. 'I...'  
  
'Tell it to the Thain,' Nod said tiredly.  
  
'But...' Sam finally managed.  
  
'Samwise, we've been friends for years. You know you cannot judge this case, it being your own son and all.'  
  
'I wasn't going to say that,' Sam answered, 'it's just...' He looked hard at Frodo. 'I cannot believe that my son had anything to do with it.'  
  
'How'd his knife get there, then?'  
  
'Where?' Frodo asked, mystified.  
  
'You know very well,' the Shirriff said. 'Come along, now. Sam, you may come, you know, and any of your family as might offer evidence.'  
  
Just then Rose stumbled up to them, her face white, tears on her cheeks. 'Why are you doing this, Nod?' she asked. 'Why are you taking our Frodo?'  
  
'He's a thief, to all appearances, Mistress Gamgee,' he said. 'I'm afraid I must bring him before the Thain.'  
  
'No,' Sam protested.  
  
Nod looked at him sadly. 'All the evidence points to him, Sam. I did as thorough an investigation as I know how. After that shooting a fortnight ago, I didn't want to make the same mistake, accusing an innocent hobbit. But his knife was found there, and the missing chickens were in your pen...'  
  
'Sam,' Rose said, grasping her husband's arm. 'Do something!'  
  
Samwise put a comforting arm around her and turned to Merry and Pippin, who'd put down their tools and jogged over as soon as they'd seen Frodo being bound. 'Hitch up the waggon,' he said, and then to the Shirriff, 'If it's all right with you, Nod, we'll go in my waggon.'  
  
'That'll be fine,' Nod agreed as the lads ran towards the stables. 'It's big enough to hold the lot of us.' He took a deep breath. 'Now, Sam, I want you to look at these three hens, this rooster. Do you claim them as yours?'  
  
It was a serious question. Should the Mayor try to protect his son by claiming ownership of the chickens, he'd be in just as much trouble, maybe more if the miller could prove his own claim.  
  
Sam shook his head. 'Of course they are not ours,' he said quietly. 'I cannot explain how they came to be in our pen,' he added, forestalling the next question.  
  
The Shirriff tightened his lips, then nodded. 'Put them down and latch the gate, they'll be safe enough here for the nonce,' he told the Sandymans. 'Won't they?' he asked Sam.  
  
'Hodge here will sit by the pen, make sure they don't walk away somehow,' Ted Sandyman said quietly.  
  
'But, Dad...' Hodge protested.  
  
'You'll do as you're told,' Ted said sternly.  
  
'Yes, Dad,' Hodge said. Robin and the Sandymans put the chickens and rooster down, walked out of the chicken yard, and tied up the gate again, then Hodge found a handy bench to sit on.  
  
'Sam,' Rose choked. Her husband patted her helplessly on the arm. 'Frodo didn't...'  
  
'Of course he didn't,' Sam said with an assurance he didn't feel. He knew that Frodo was not a thief, but the evidence against him was as black as ink on the page. He hoped desperately that Pippin would be able to sort the whole mess out, but he had a sinking feeling, as if he were being carried in a small boat down the Anduin River, without paddles, while the sound of the falls of Rauros grew ever louder in his ears.  
  
'Dad, I don't know what this is all about,' Frodo said, his face stricken. 'I wouldn't steal, you know that.'  
  
'I know that, Frodo,' Sam said. 'We'll get this all sorted out, you'll see.' Frodo nodded, but didn't smile in return, and Sam's own smile faded. It was too much like lying, to try to keep a smile on his face.  
  
Goldi came up to them then, twisting her hands in her apron. 'I picked up all the shards, Mum, and swept the floor,' she said.  
  
Rose nodded absently, her gaze locked on the Shirriff's face. 'You cannot believe...' she said.  
  
Nod looked pityingly at her. 'No mum ever wants to believe the worst of her son,' he said. 'I'm sorry, Rose. You may come along with us, if you like.'  
  
'Sam?' she said, looking up at her husband. He nodded, and the little group began to move towards the lane, to wait for the ponies and waggon. She turned to Goldi, who was following. 'You stay here,' she said. 'Merry'll be in charge... be sure you make a good dinner and supper and get the younger ones to bed on time.'  
  
'Yes'm,' Goldi said, trying not to cry. She wanted to hug Frodo, but the Shirriff still held him by the arm as he led him away, so she had to content herself with a long look.  
  
He answered with a nod, as if to say, _Everything will be all right._ They both knew very well, of course, that it most likely wouldn't be.  
  
The young Gamgees watched their father help their mother into the waggon, then Sam and Nod helped Frodo up, for his bound wrists made it too awkward for him to climb up by himself. The Shirriff climbed in and sat down next to his prisoner. Next came Ted and Ned Sandyman. Finally, the Mayor took his place in the driver's seat and chirruped to the ponies.  
  
No one raised a hand in farewell, there were no shouts, no songs, no encouragement to "Hurry back!" or "Be good!" The young Gamgees stood huddled together, eyes locked on their older brother as he was driven slowly away.  
  
When the waggon was well down the Hill, Goldi turned away and buried her face in her apron. Merry put an awkward arm about her shoulders as she sobbed. 'Easy there, Sis,' he said quietly, and to Pippin, 'Go make some tea, will you?' Pippin nodded and turned to the kitchen.  
  
Primrose, Daisy and Ruby came up from the washroom, where they'd been sorting clothes for washing. 'What is it?' Primrose said. 'Where are the folks going, and who's that with them?'  
  
'O!' sobbed Goldi, and her mystified sisters turned to her with coos and comfort.  
  
'The Shirriff took Frodo,' Tolman piped up. He clutched his wooden ox to his chest.  
  
'Did he want him as a witness?' Daisy asked.  
  
'He bound him,' Hamfast said soberly. 'Bound him and took him away.'  
  
Tears sprang to the other sisters' eyes. 'Bound him?' Ruby gasped. 'Our Frodo?'  
  
'Whatever for?' demanded Bilbo indignantly. He'd been washing floors and hadn't seen the excitement until he'd emerged from the front door to see the waggon drive away.  
  
'The Shirriff called him a thief,' Robin said.  
  
'Thief!' Bilbo and the three youngest girls exclaimed.  
  
'I don't believe it,' Bilbo added.  
  
'He said he had proof,' Robin maintained, looking sick.   
  
'What proof?' Merry demanded. 'Come now, Goldi,' he said more gently. 'You'll make yourself ill, crying like this.' He began to lead her to the kitchen door.  
  
'Robin, you were on the spot,' Hamfast said. 'What proof?' he added, echoing his older brother.  
  
'I don't know,' Robin answered. 'They found something at the Sandymans'. I don't know what it was.'   
  
He stared after the waggon until Merry, rallying the remaining Gamgees, said, 'We could all do with a cup of tea, I think. Come along, everyone.'


	12. A Good Name is Finer than Riches

Notes to Readers:   
  
My computer is feeling much better, thank you. Brushed out a few cobwebs and we've had only one crash since I've been back (believe you me, that is a great difference from a week ago!).  
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Reader Poll: Are you tired of Ferdi angst? (your answers will be taken into consideration in stories currently under construction)  
  
Dana! I awakened to a raft of reviews this morning, thanks! You must have typed your fingers to the bone... here, have a nice slice of apple tart to restore your strength.  
  
Hai, you are right, fairness is going to be a large concern.  
  
Xena, thanks for answering the poll. Poor Ferdi, if his future were not already mapped out in stories further along on the timeline, I think he would move to Gondor to get away from the angst. You are right about Pippin, he's in a tough spot. No wonder the poor guy doesn't want to be Thain. I certainly wouldn't want the job. It is hard enough mediating disputes amongst the little ones.  
  
Madeleine, it was a good week away. Thanks for the good thoughts.  
  
Bookworm, you know, it is possible that Merry might never remember borrowing the knife, it's just one of those things that happens in passing, so casual and so frequent an occurrence that it makes no impression in the mind. You just never know. Will he or won't he?  
  
Aemilia Rose, don't worry, hobbits don't as a rule deliberately hurt other hobbits. Though there's no such thing as Miranda rights in the Shire, hobbits do have an intrinsic respect for the honour and dignity of others, even when they are thought guilty of crime. The whole focus of their justice is restoration when hobbitly possible.  
  
Miriel, the way the justice system seemed to work itself out in these stories (I think the first hearing I ever wrote was in "Flames"), the accused has the last word, but is not allowed to speak until the witnesses have finished testifying against him. This fits in with the idea of "guilty until proven innocent", which would have been the mindset in the Old Country. Since the testimony of more than one witness is required to convict, and it would be unlikely for hobbits to conspire against another hobbit, false charges would not be common in the Shire. Frodo's case has been carefully crafted by malice and forethought on the part of someone with an axe to grind, even to providing more than one witness to testify against him based upon planted evidence. One exception to this "more than one witness" rule would be if the Thain chose to abuse his power, he could convict someone without due process (see "Flames", and Paladin unjustly placing Ferdi under the Ban without recourse or appeal), though being a hobbit, this is unlikely.  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**12. A Good Name is Finer than Riches**  
  
Hodge sat deep in his own thoughts, watching the chickens pecking in the yard. He jumped at a voice behind him.  
  
'Would you like a cup of tea?' Goldi said. He turned to see her holding a mug out to him.  
  
Taking it with mumbled thanks, he sipped at the tea, raising his eyebrows. 'It's just right,' he said. 'How did you know?'  
  
'I remembered from when Mum and Dad had your family to tea,' she said. Her eyes were red from weeping, and he felt a pang.  
  
'I'm that sorry about your brother,' he said.  
  
'He didn't do it,' Goldi responded stoutly.  
  
'I'm sure he didn't,' Hodge agreed. 'I cannot imagine Frodo, of all the hobbits I know, doing such a thing.' He hesitated, then added, 'Goldi, I owe you an apology. It was very wrong of me, what I did, and I hope you'll forgive me.'  
  
She looked down and coloured prettily, very prettily indeed, he thought. He continued, 'It's just that... when I saw you kissing that Took, and you won't even give the lads around here the time of day...'  
  
'I'm too young to be walking out with anyone,' Goldi said, raising her eyes to meet his. 'My mum and dad want me to wait until I'm thirty.'  
  
'Rosie married when she was only...' he began.  
  
'That was different,' Goldi said. He raised an eyebrow, and she bristled. 'No, it was not like that at all, she didn't marry because she _had_ to, no matter what those idle tongues down at the Dragon might say.'  
  
'I'm sorry,' Hodge said again. 'When I saw you being free with your kisses, I thought...'  
  
'You thought I was following in her footsteps, that I'd get myself into a fix and have to be got out again, is that it?' she said hotly. This was not going at all the way Hodge wished.  
  
'No,' he broke in, trying to redeem the situation. 'It's just that...'  
  
' "Just that" what?' she demanded.  
  
He dropped his eyes and swallowed hard, then bravely met her furious gaze. 'It's just that... I wished it was me rather than the son of the Thain,' he admitted.  
  
This simple statement deflated her, and she sank down onto the bench next to him, staring. 'You...?' she said, and could not continue.  
  
'It made me mad,' he said. 'That's why I did what I did. I'm sorry, Goldi, I never meant you no discourtesy.'  
  
'Goldi!' Merry called sharply from the kitchen doorway.  
  
She popped up from the bench again, started towards the door, turned to say breathlessly, 'I forgive you!' and turned back, hitching her skirts up to run to the door where her brother watched and waited.  
  
Hodge smiled and settled back to sip his tea. Nice girl, that Goldi. Pretty smile she had, indeed. It was a pity about her brother. He would never have thought Frodo capable of stealing; he would have sworn that lad was as honest as the day was long in the summertime.  
  
***  
  
The waggon creaked along New Road from Bywater to Tuckborough, wheels rumbling, pony hoofs clopping briskly for all the world as if they were driving to take tea with the Thain, but for the silence of the waggon's occupants. Frodo felt his hands growing numb, and tried to ease his wrists.  
  
'I'm sorry, lad,' Nod said quietly. 'I must have tied them too tight. Sit still a minute.' He undid the knots and retied the bonds more loosely. Frodo nodded thanks, wriggling his fingers to restore circulation.  
  
The news spread like puffpenny seeds on a windy day; soon everyone in Hobbiton and Bywater knew that the Mayor was driving his son, bound and escorted by Shirriff Nod, towards the Great Smials. Speculation was rife; what could the lad have done?  
  
A wild rumour circulated that he'd gone out hunting with his younger brothers and killed one of them, rather like the shooting accident a fortnight before. Quite a few lasses in the area returned home in tears, mourning either Merry or Pippin, such lively lads as they were, polite and easy on the eyes in the bargain.  
  
It was not long before someone put two and two together, having seen the Sandymans in the waggon, and before the Shirriff and his prisoner were halfway to the Great Smials, the Mayor's eldest son been firmly branded thief, sneak and scoundrel by many of the inhabitants of Bywater and its environs.  
  
'I cannot believe it,' the innkeeper said, polishing glasses as he got ready to serve noontide dinner to all comers.  
  
'Shirriff wouldn't-a bound him iffen he hadn't found him guilty,' the old gaffer said stoutly, tucking a cloth into his collar, preparatory to tucking in to his dinner.  
  
'I _still_ cannot believe it,' the innkeeper insisted, 'not that lad, not the Mayor's son.'  
  
'He won't be the Mayor's son much longer,' a farmer in town for market day said. 'Samwise'll never get elected again, not with a thief for a son.'  
  
'He'll pull out of the election, I'll warrant,' another agreed.  
  
'I'd imagine old Gaffer Gamgee is spinning in his grave at the moment,' Ches said soberly, taking his regular seat. 'Anybody seen Rusty yet? This has got to be a bad blow for the Burrows. Daughter nearly married to a thief, and all.'  
  
'She had a narrow escape, that's for certain,' the gaffer agreed. 'I imagine he's counting his blessings.'  
  
As a matter of fact, he wasn't. He was sitting at his kitchen table, cup of tea gone cold before him, numbly listening to the weeping of his wife and daughters. Old Mr Proudfoot's garden would be sadly neglected this day, but to be honest, Rusty Burrows wasn't thinking of the ire of his best-paying client. He was remembering instead the haunted eyes of his assistant as the Mayor's waggon bore Frodo slowly by him, when he'd walked whistling out his door to start another day.


	13. To Tell The Truth

Notes to Readers:   
  
My computer is feeling much better, thank you. Brushed out a few cobwebs and we've had only one crash since I've been back (believe you me, that is a great difference from a week ago!).  
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Reader Poll: Are you tired of Ferdi angst? (your answers will be taken into consideration in stories currently under construction)  
  
Xena, I thought the chapter was sad, too. And hobbits, like Big Folk, do seem to spend a lot of time gossiping, don't they?  
  
Bookworm, the weeping lasses are not so far-fetched as they might seem. I have had a bit of experience with hysterical teens and pre-teens who seem to delight in upsetting themselves over half-truths. I seem to remember dimly from my own past being a member of a gaggle of girls whispering and shrieking over something that turned out to be a rumour, though it was put forth with wide-eyed sincerity and sworn to be true...  
  
Madeleine, even if the Burrows believe in Frodo, will they be able to stand against social pressure?  
  
Hai, Hodge's confession came as quite a surprise to me when I wrote the chapter.   
  
Aemilia Rose, I don't think you're biased at all. But then, I _am_ biased, when it comes to Pippin, Merry, and Sam (and Frodo, when he is in the picture). I must admit I try to avoid stories about evil hobbits, I cannot believe it of them. (So why did I write a story about a malicious hobbit? Hmmm.).  
  
Miriel, as to Hodge and Goldi... you know, it is not so far-fetched. If Sam were not Mayor, they'd be of the same class, socially, whereas Faramir would be far out of Goldi's reach, with her parents being so conventional and class-conscious.  
  
FantasyFan, I know, I had a lot of the same feelings as you when the story was in the works. The outline actually called for Hodge to be the culprit, allowing Frodo to go off and be tried, never dreaming he'd be found guilty, only wanting to cause him the maximum embarrassment and inconvenience. And then... the story wrote itself in another direction. Guess we'll never know how Hodge would have reacted. Thanks for the kind words. I'm actually feeling a little apprehensive about the angst in "Runaway". Whenever I write angst, I worry that it is "over the top". I almost "chickened out" and cut the story short, with a neat and sweet ending. You'll have to let me know what you think when we get to those chapters in that story. (Please do.)  
   
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... I'm also told that StoriesofArda has author alerts, though I have not yet discovered how they work. I count myself blessed to have figured out how to post chapters there! One thing at a time.  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**13. To Tell the Truth**  
  
Pippin rose from the table and kissed his wife. 'It's a beautiful spring day,' he said with a twinkle in his eye. 'What do you think of us riding off on a picnic for tea?'  
  
'Us?' she asked with a smile of her own.  
  
'You know, the six of us, you, yourself, me, myself, and I,' he answered.  
  
'Six?' she giggled. 'I counted five.'  
  
'Ah, yes, and "we" as well,' he grinned.  
  
'Seven, if you include "us",' she corrected.  
  
'O aye, we'll have to pack a lot of food, then,' he said. 'Better alert the kitchens.'  
  
'What of the children?' Diamond asked.  
  
'Children?' Pippin said, patting his pockets as if expecting to find them there, oblivious to the giggles that arose. Light broke across his features, and he exclaimed, 'Ah, the children!'  
  
'Yes,' Diamond said. 'The children.'  
  
Pippin looked around the table. 'Children?' he said. 'Did you have plans for tea?'  
  
'As a matter of fact, we do,' Faramir replied. 'Uncle Ferdi and Auntie Nell have invited us to take tea with them.'  
  
'You knew it all the time,' Diamond accused. 'You scoundrel.'  
  
'My dearest,' Pippin said in a confidential tone. 'Not before the children.' He glanced about the table again, then back to Diamond, a wicked gleam in his eye. 'Did you forget they were there, hearing every word?' He affected puzzlement at the outburst of laughter that followed.  
  
'You had better take yourself off to the study, then, if you wish to be finished by teatime,' Diamond said. She wagged her eyebrows at him and cooed, 'I'll make it worth your while...'  
  
'Come on,' Faramir laughed. 'We had better leave the lovebirds to it before they corrupt the lot of us.'  
  
'I'm too young to hear such things,' Jonquil said primly. She was offended when everyone laughed again, but thawed quickly when her Da drew her into his lap and whispered, 'Don't tell anyone, but you're still my best bright-haired lass.' Forget-me-not, sitting nearby, shared a wink with her father. She was his best dark-haired lass, of course.  
  
'I know,' Jonquil whispered back. She gave him a quick kiss on the ear and slid down again.  
  
'Be good for your Auntie Nell,' Diamond said in farewell.  
  
'We will!' they chorused.  
  
She gazed after them with the look that Pippin knew well. 'They're growing up so fast,' he said softly.  
  
'I know,' she sighed.  
  
'You're not quite past it, you know...' he added. 'If you were the wife of a Man, now, your youngest would have been born ten years ago at the least, but a hobbit mum...'  
  
'I heard of one having her last when she was nearly my age,' Diamond said wistfully.  
  
'There, you see!' he said triumphantly. 'We could, you know...'  
  
'And if I am past it?'  
  
'With any luck, there are always grandchildren to come,' he said, 'and you know I will love you even when it's time to turn you out to pasture.'  
  
'That's reassuring, I think,' she said. She rose, and bent to kiss him on the tip of his nose.  
  
'What's that for?' he asked with a smile.  
  
'A promise,' she said, 'of things to come.' She chuckled. 'Don't work past teatime.'  
  
'Wild ponies could not keep me at my desk,' he said.  
  
She frowned and said, 'That doesn't sound right, somehow.'  
  
'Well, they couldn't,' he maintained, rising from his chair and throwing down his serviette. 'You just make sure the picnic is packed and I will be there with bells on.'  
  
'Leave the bells,' Diamond said.  
  
'For you, my love, anything,' Pippin said. He took her hand, kissed her fingertips and left the room, whistling.  
  
***  
  
They were moving at a good clip through the paperwork for the day. Pippin and Regi did a great deal of the work aloud for Ferdibrand's benefit, and there was much pleasant talk about the promise of this year's harvest, if the progress of the winter barley and winter wheat was any measure to go by.  
  
No appointments were scheduled for this day, and Pippin felt quite confident that he would be free by teatime, even a bit earlier, when a tap came at the door.  
  
'Are we expecting anyone?' Pippin said.  
  
'Quite a few waggons have driven into the yard,' Regi observed, 'but of course it is market day in Bywater, and I do believe the cooks put in a large order.'  
  
'Were you watching out the window instead of attending to business?' Pippin said.  
  
'I do not suffer such distractions,' Ferdibrand said placidly. 'Perhaps, Regi, you ought to sit with your back to the windows to avoid the problem.'  
  
'Then how could I warn the Thain of arriving difficulties?' Regi said.  
  
'_Are_ you going to answer the knock?' Ferdi said.  
  
'I was hoping to avoid interruptions this day,' Pippin sighed, then raised his voice. 'Enter!'  
  
Hilly stuck his head in the door, and at the sight of his face, Regi rose quickly from his desk. 'I'll see if I can put them off,' he said, 'but...'  
  
'I just hope it's not as bad as the shooting a fortnight ago,' Pippin said quietly. Regi nodded and went out into the corridor.  
  
'What is it?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'I don't know, but from the look on Hilly's face it isn't good,' the Thain answered.  
  
'A case to be judged?' Pippin said, as Reginard returned to the study. 'Can it be put off?'  
  
Regi shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'You're not going to like this.'  
  
'As bad as the shooting?' Pippin asked. Regi shook his head soberly and opened the door, beckoning.  
  
Pippin sat very still behind the ornate desk as Sam and Rose Gamgee entered, followed by Ted and Ned Sandyman, and last, Shirriff Nod, escorting a bound Frodo Gamgee.  
  
'Frodo?' he gasped. He felt a ridiculous desire to excuse himself from hearing the case, but who, then, could hear it? Certainly not Merry. The King?  
  
Steadying his voice, he asked, 'What are the charges?'  
  
'Thievery,' the Shirriff answered. 'Three hens and a rooster.'  
  
'Five,' Ted Sandyman corrected.  
  
'Three is all we have evidence for,' Nod said.  
  
'Let us hear the evidence, then,' Pippin said. He nodded to Reginard to seat Sam, Rose, Ted, and Ned, while the Shirriff and the prisoner remained standing before him.  
  
Quietly, Nod presented the case. For the first time, Frodo heard where his knife had been found.  
  
'However did it end up there?' he asked aloud. Pippin noticed that Ferdi put down the piece of wood and carving tool he was using, and straightened in his chair to listen more intently.  
  
'Hold your tongue,' Reginard said. 'You'll have your chance to speak your piece.' Frodo subsided, his expression bewildered.  
  
'And so three of the hens, and the prize rooster, were to be found in the Gamgees' pen,' Nod concluded.  
  
'They ate two of the hens,' Ted said, but the Shirriff turned to him and said, 'There's no evidence to that effect.'  
  
'Sam,' Pippin said, sick at heart. 'What do you know of this?'  
  
Sam looked as helpless as Pippin felt. 'The first I heard was when Nod knocked on the door this morning, just as we were finishing breakfast,' he said.  
  
'You'd heard about the missing birds earlier,' Pippin prompted.  
  
Sam's face cleared, 'O yes,' he said, 'Merry and Pippin-lad came back from the Green Dragon with a tale of disappearing chickens. The talk was that a fox had taken them. We checked our fences and our hen-house, just to make sure things were all tight and safe.'  
  
Next the Thain questioned the miller and his son, hearing how after the first two chickens had disappeared, they'd found a small opening in the fence and fixed it, had also nailed down the floorboards in their coop more securely after finding a loose one. Despite their precautions, they'd lost three more hens, and the rooster.  
  
'We know where those are, at least,' Ned Sandyman said, and his father hushed him. Ted the miller knew what Frodo faced; he'd lived it himself. It was not right for his son to take pleasure in another's misfortune. Ted had learned his lesson during his months of enforced silence.  
  
Pippin asked Sam and Rose if they had anything to say. Rose sobbed into her handkerchief, but managed to gasp out that she'd never believe such a thing of Frodo, never in all the world, no matter what anyone said. Pippin nodded sympathetically. Any mother would have said the same.  
  
Samwise just shook his head. There was nothing he could do to help his son, and he could see plainly that Pippin's hands were tied as well.  
  
'Frodo?' Pippin said. 'You know the penalty for thievery: A year under the Ban. If I do not impose this sentence, folk will cry "foul" and "favouritism" and you will be shunned anyhow, and not just you, but your entire family. Unless you can prove your innocence to me, I have no choice.'  
  
'I did not steal those chickens,' Frodo said desperately. 'You must believe me, I did not.'  
  
'A prank, perhaps?' Pippin said, seizing on the only alternative he could think of. 'You took them, put them in your own coop, as some kind of trick?'  
  
'No!' Frodo said. 'You have to believe me! I do not know how my knife came to be where they say they found it, for I was never there!'  
  
Pippin glanced over to Ferdi. The chancellor was nodding slightly.  
  
'How could you have lost your knife?' he asked. 'You told the Shirriff in your own words that you keep it buttoned in a pocket, or on your nightstand.' Frodo shook his head. Pippin said, 'Unless... could one of your brothers...?'  
  
'No,' Sam said. 'My boys know better than to take what doesn't belong to them.' The words hung in the air, heavy with irony considering the present situation.  
  



	14. Sworn to Silence

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Reader Poll: Are you tired of Ferdi angst? (your answers will be taken into consideration in stories currently under construction)  
  
Xena, I don't see how Pippin does it, either. Most of the idea for this story came out of "Merlin" and Pippin staggering under his heavy load. I got to thinking, why was the load so heavy? And this story was the result. Thanks for the thoughtful review.  
  
Bookworm, it will be interesting to see how this all plays out.  
  
Hai, I kind of neatly painted them all into a corner, as far as anyone remembering the truth about the knife. Wicked of me, I know.   
  
Aemilia Rose, cheering Ferdi on with you. He often acts as Pippin's conscience, you know, when he perceives injustice, having been on the receiving end too many times himself.  
  
Miriel, Yes, we are barely more than halfway through, so there is still a ways to go before this is over. Ah, well, my grandmother always used to say that adversity was character building. Guess all the Gamgees are under construction at the moment. *** I do love writing romantic scenes between my married hobbits, especially the longer they are married. Ummm, how far will Hodge/Goldi go? Am tempted to answer this, but for the fact that it would be a spoiler to do so. Thank you for the lovely, long review. It feels more like a conversation, somehow..  
  
FantasyFan, As usual, a very helpful review. You gave me a turn when you mentioned kidnapping and bad fanfic in the same breath, for in my stories, it is a real fear for Pippin, though of course, he learned about the idea in the world of Men. Those in his inner circle know about the concept, as well, if only because he hopes it will give them cause to guard his family more closely, knowing what ruffians might do. Then, of course, I realised that you have already seen kidnapping in "Merlin" (on the part of ruffians, that is), so I see that your comments must be in reference to hobbits kidnapping hobbits, something I've not yet run across in fanfic, though I have seen reference to rape. My beloved Ferdi was branded a rapist in at least one story I've heard about! Talk about unjust accusations! *** You'll have to let me know, when we get to the solution in this story, how plausible you think it sounds. *** Your computer crashed on the first try, and you typed all that in again? You are a wonder, and I am very grateful to have you for a reader and reviewer!   
   
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**14. Sworn to Silence**  
  
'I have no choice,' Pippin said again. He had sent the others to the second parlour, escorted by Hilly, whilst he talked over the case with his counsellors. 'My hands are as tied as that lad's,' he added.  
  
'He was telling the truth,' Ferdibrand answered quietly. 'When he said he did not take the fowl, when he asked how his knife came to be found where it was, his voice had the ring of truth.'  
  
'A convincing liar?' Regi asked.  
  
'I have yet to hear one,' Ferdi replied.  
  
'I need evidence, Ferdi, solid evidence,' Pippin said in frustration. 'Your gift for hearing truth is not something one can hold in the hand, show to the People.'  
  
'You'll put an innocent hobbit under the Ban?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'You know what'll happen if I don't,' Pippin said bitterly. 'Folk will cry "favour" and will shun the whole family. No one will trust the Thain's judgment again, and then where do they find justice in the Shire if that happens?'  
  
'Justice,' Reginard said bleakly. 'Is there any justice for Frodo?'  
  
'Blast it, Regi!' Pippin swore, slamming his fist upon his desk in his frustration. There was a long silence. 'I don't know what else to do,' he added, when he'd got hold of himself again. 'Sam knows it, too,' he said. 'You saw the look on his face, Regi.'  
  
'I didn't hear,' Ferdi said in a faraway tone. 'He didn't speak.'  
  
'He knows it,' Regi gritted. 'All we're doing is prolonging the agony. He knows that the Ban will be pronounced upon his oldest son, and there's nothing that anyone can do about it.' He shook his head. 'However you look at it, you'll be losing two Gamgees this day.'  
  
'What do you mean?' Pippin asked bleakly.  
  
'The moment you pronounce the Ban on his son, Samwise will resign the Mayorship,' Regi said. 'Can he do aught else?'  
  
Pippin closed his eyes in pain. There was no way to save Samwise, or his son, no way that he could think of. 'I should have stayed in Gondor,' he said to no one in particular. He raised haunted eyes to Reginard. 'Tell me we are doing this for the good of the Shire.'  
  
'We are doing this...' Regi said slowly, then shook his head. 'No, I cannot believe that.'  
  
'What else can I do?' Pippin asked, an edge in his voice.  
  
'Naught else,' Regi sighed. 'Not a thing.'   
  
'Shunned, for an entire year,' Ferdi said softly. 'Couldn't we send him out to the new territory?'  
  
'The Gamgees would lose their son entirely, should he flee the Ban. He could never come back,' Pippin said. 'Folk would never forgive his "crime". The only way to be welcomed back into the community is to live under the Ban.' He sighed. 'Let's get it over with.'  
  
Reginard rose and stalked to the door, yanked it open, and told the servant waiting outside that the hearing was ready to continue.  
  
All too soon, they were ready. Pippin held Sam's gaze in silent apology for a long moment before turning to his son.  
  
'Frodo Gamgee, also called Gardner, do you have anything else to say?'   
  
Frodo could only shake his head helplessly, but behind him, Ned Sandyman said to his father in a low tone, 'Why is he drawing this out? We all know who took those chickens.'  
  
Ferdi sat a little straighter, puzzled. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but...  
  
Pippin nodded, squaring his shoulders. 'Is there anything else to be said?' he asked the room in general. Heads were shaken, and he nodded again. He did not notice the look of intense concentration on his chancellor's face.  
  
'Here is my finding,' he said. Reginard dipped his quill in the inkwell, preparatory to taking down the verdict.  
  
Forcing himself to look Frodo in the eye, he said, 'Frodo, I find that all the evidence presented here serves only to indicate your guilt.' He could not bring himself to say that he found Frodo guilty.  
  
The anguish, the betrayal in Frodo's eyes made it hard to continue, but Pippin steeled himself.  
  
'Frodo Gamgee, also called Gardner, of Hobbiton,' Thain Peregrin said somberly, 'I hereby pronounce upon you, the Ban.   
  
'You may speak to no other, and none may speak to you. You must eat your meals in silence, and avoid gatherings, feasts, and festivals. You are under the sentence of shunning, until you return, one year from this date, to hear the Ban against you lifted.'  
  
He took a deep breath. 'Do you have any final words to say before the silence begins?'  
  
Frodo looked to his parents. There was no use in protesting his innocence; he could see from their expressions that they believed in him, no matter what the evidence said. 'Mum, Dad,' he faltered. He swallowed hard, groping for the right words, words to last through a year of silence. 'I love you,' he said brokenly. Rose sobbed into her handkerchief, then controlled herself with a great effort. She lifted her chin proudly. 'I love you, too, Frodo-lad,' she said clearly.  
  
Pippin nodded, then saw Samwise stagger. 'Sam!' he said sharply. Ted Sandyman and Shirriff Nob jumped to either side of the Mayor, eased him into a chair. 'Call the healer!' Pippin snapped. Hilly darted from the room.  
  
Reginard poured a glass of water, held it to the Mayor's lips, urging him to sip. 'No,' Sam said faintly, pushing the glass away and sitting straighter in the chair. 'No, I'm well.' He looked to his son, standing aghast, and his eyes filled with tears. 'Frodo,' he whispered.  
  
'I know, Dad,' Frodo replied simply. The Mayor--soon to be plain Sam Gamgee again, opened his mouth to renounce his office, only to be forestalled by a quiet word from the chancellor.  
  
'Wait,' Ferdi said. Pippin looked at him in astonishment. Ferdi bore the look of one who has sorted through a difficult puzzle.  
  
'The hearing is not over, not yet,' Ferdi continued.  
  
'I've already pronounced my finding,' Pippin said, dumbfounded. 'Regi's written it down.'  
  
Regi looked down at the mess on his desk in dismay. 'I spilt the ink when I jumped up,' he said.  
  
Ferdi, of a wonder, smiled. 'I heard that,' he said. 'A lovely sound it was. I take it the paper is quite unreadable. You'll have to write it all over.'  
  
'That I will,' Regi said.  
  
'Perhaps I can spare you some effort,' Ferdi said.  
  
'What are you on about, Ferdibrand?' the Thain said in some irritation.  
  
'Adjourn the hearing,' Ferdi said. 'We're not quite finished yet.'  
  
'Adjourn the...' Pippin said in astonishment.  
  
'That's right,' Ferdi said. 'There's more evidence to be heard.' He turned his head in the general direction of the Mayor. 'Samwise?' he asked. 'Are you well?'  
  
Sam was beyond words, and Ferdi half-rose from his chair in concern. 'Sam?' he asked.  
  
'Drink the water, Sam,' Rose said firmly, taking the glass from Regi and urging it upon her husband. 'It'll do you good.'  
  
Healer Mardibold strode through the door just then, and seeing the Mayor in the chair, surrounded, had no trouble determining who needed his services.  
  
Sam finally found his voice, as his wrist was seized in a firm grip. 'I am well,' he said shakily.  
  
'Let me be the judge of that,' Mardibold said mildly. 'Why don't you drink the water your wife has for you?'  
  
Sam gave up and drank. Colour was returning to his face, and Pippin breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
'I don't know what the lot of you are up to,' the healer finally said, straightening from his examination, 'but I want to pop this hobbit into a bed and watch him for the rest of the day, and into the night. He's suffered some sort of shock.'  
  
'I'll say,' Ned said softly, only to be hushed by his father.  
  
'I am well,' Sam said again.  
  
However, Pippin replied, 'The hearing is adjourned until the morrow. We'll find you all rooms to stay, or you may return to your homes this night and we will meet again at noontide.'  
  
'If I let you take him home, will you put him straight to bed?' Mardibold asked Rose over Sam's head.  
  
'I will,' Rose said.  
  
'He'll rest easier in his own bed, I think,' Mardi said, as Sam tried to protest. 'I know I always do.'  
  
'Don't I have a say in this?' Sam blustered.  
  
'No,' Rose and the healer answered together.  
  
Looking to the Thain, the healer added, 'For the convenience of the Mayor, I'd suggest you continue your hearing in Hobbiton on the morrow.'  
  
'Very well,' Pippin said. 'We will do just that.' Sweeping the room with his gaze, he said, 'We will reconvene on the morrow, at mid-day, at Bag End.' Looking at the Shirriff, he said, 'You might as well unbind him.' Nod quickly undid the rope, wound it into a small coil, and shoved it back into his pocket, all without speaking to Frodo, or meeting his eye. The Ban had been pronounced, after all, whether or not the hearing of further evidence caused it to be lifted.  
  
The party from Hobbiton walked in silence back to the waggon, Samwise supported between Mardibold and Pippin, though he protested as they helped him up from the chair that he did not need the aid. In silence, the Shirriff drove the waggon all the way back to Hobbiton, stopping at the mill to leave off the miller and his son. In silence, the waggon pulled up in front of Bag End, and without speaking, Nod and Rose helped Samwise down from the waggon and into the smial, where Rose tucked him into bed with a cup of tea fresh from the pot that Goldi had brewed when Tolman shouted that he saw the waggon coming up the Hill.  
  
In silence, Frodo walked into Bag End, not meeting anyone's eyes, taking himself off to the parlour to be alone, not speaking to anyone, and somehow, his brothers and sisters knew without being told that the shunning had begun. The girls dissolved into tears, and the boys went grimly about unharnessing the ponies, grooming them, feeding them, putting them and the waggon away, and moving on to their evening tasks, and no one spoke a word to anyone, not even a word of farewell to the Shirriff as he quietly let himself out the door.


	15. Whispers in the Moonlight

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Reader Poll: Are you tired of Ferdi angst? (your answers will be taken into consideration in stories currently under construction)  
  
Madeleine, hang in there, stay with me, sit down, have a cup of nice tea.  
  
Xena, I do so appreciate your thoughtful reviews. It is difficult, knowing how the story goes, to post only one chapter every other day. OTOH, it buys me time to write other things, and not worry about having nothing to post.  
  
Bookworm, I hope Ferdi's idea pans out, as well. Wonder what he has in mind?  
  
Hai, I kind of neatly painted them all into a corner, as far as anyone remembering the truth about the knife. Wicked of me, I know.   
  
Aemilia Rose, I am in complete agreement with all your comments.  
  
Miriel, I wonder how many innocents are put away in our justice system. At least as many as are let off when guilty, I'd imagine. O for a truth-sifter, in reality! And yet, in this case, it looks as if hearing the truth is not enough. Somehow, hard evidence must be produced to save an innocent from condemnation. No, Goldi is not in this next chapter, but someone else is whom I think you'll be happy to meet.  
  
FantasyFan, Nice summation. It is amazing just how much can happen in the space of a few hours. Recent events come to mind. You were right in what you noticed about the timing of Ferdi's brainstorm. More will come to light in a future chapter.  
  
Citrine, Samwise is under a terrible strain. He faces losing his son, his reputation, the Mayorship, and worst of all, he knows in his bones that Frodo is innocent, though he has no way to prove it. Thanks for reviewing!  
   
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**15. Whispers in the Moonlight**  
  
Frodo sat by himself in the parlour until he heard his family retire for the evening, then he let himself out into the garden. He'd not eaten since breakfast, but somehow he wasn't hungry. Instead, he just felt numb.  
  
The garden had always been his place of solace, the place where he went to think, to puzzle through a problem, to find grace when life's problems seemed overwhelming. Of course, up until now, his problems had been mere gnats, he realised. The Ban, now... that was an Oliphaunt, threatening to smash him into the ground with a stomp of its massive foot.  
  
He sat down on the bench near the coop. The chickens were all shut up for the night, and the Shirriff had put a lock of sorts on the door, to deter tampering whilst the hearing was adjourned. Frodo wondered who would try to tamper with the chickens. He supposed he was the likeliest suspect, though with the Ban already pronounced, what would be the point?  
  
He wondered miserably why they didn't just have it over with and done. Why stretch this misery out, why prolong the travesty of a hearing?  
  
He stiffened at a whisper behind him. 'I hoped I'd find you here.' A figure slipped around the bench, sitting down beside him, and he gasped, then remembered he must not speak.  
  
'They said...' the whisper continued, 'They said you're to be shunned.' He looked away, but she went on, 'Is it true?'  
  
Desperate, he put a hand to her mouth and shook his head. The penalty for one caught speaking to one under the Ban was to be shunned as well, and one already under shunning faced banishment from the Shire if caught in violation.  
  
'Talk to me,' Daisy hissed, for it was she, 'or I will scream and then we may be banished together.'  
  
'Daisy,' he whispered. 'I'm under the Ban; you must not speak to me and I cannot speak to you.'  
  
'I know,' she breathed. 'Dad said I could not see you again, but I had to... I had to, just one more time.' The cold light of the moon revealed a tear tracing its way down her cheek. 'I had to say goodbye.' Impulsively, she hugged him, and his arms went around her in an answering hug.  
  
Pulling back at last, she looked into his face. 'I have to know,' she whispered. 'Were you... would you have...?'  
  
'I was going to speak at Yule,' he said quietly. Yule was the traditional time for planning a wedding in the spring. But of course, Frodo wouldn't be speaking again for a long time. Not this Yule, at least, and by next Yule, perhaps Daisy's parents would have found a more suitable match.  
  
On second thought, there was no "perhaps" about it, Frodo thought bleakly. There had been quite a few other young hobbits seeking to walk out with her, when she'd decided to accept Frodo's attentions.  
  
'O Frodo,' she sobbed, and hugged him again. 'I'll wait,' she gulped defiantly, as she drew back.  
  
'Your father would never stand for it,' Frodo said. 'I've been branded a thief.'  
  
'But after the shunning is lifted...?' she whispered. He shook his head in despair. For all the talk of forgiveness and "serving your time", and being accepted back into the bosom of the community, he couldn't see anyone trusting him, hiring him, after this. His name, the careful reputation he'd built up, had fallen in ruin. He'd be lucky to find work digging ditches, and he'd have to bring his own shovel to do so. No one would loan him one. Thief.  
  
'Then I'll remain an old maid,' she said defiantly. 'And when you're an old, bitter gaffer, smoking on your doorstep, I'll bring you fresh-baked biscuits every day and sit down and gossip with you and scandalise all the neighbours.'  
  
He laughed silently at this picture and hugged her again. 'Ginger biscuits?' he asked.  
  
'By the basketful,' she whispered. She drew a shuddering breath, and pulled her shawl up over her head again. 'I must go, but know this... I love you, Frodo Gamgee Gardner.'  
  
'I love you, Daisy Burrows,' he answered softly.  
  
'I'll hold you to that,' she whispered. 'And since you're under the Ban, you won't be able to tell me if you change your mind!' And with that, she slipped away, becoming one with the shadows.  
  
Frodo sat a long time before he finally took himself off to bed. When he got there, he found a crumbly ginger biscuit laid upon his pillow that had obviously come from a little brother's pocket. He ate it slowly, pocket fuzzies and all, and thought that perhaps he might just survive the shunning after all.  
  
***  
  
'How did you know he was lying? He hardly spoke,' Pippin asked his chancellor.  
  
'He was lying,' Ferdi said firmly. 'I heard it in his voice. Two words, or two thousand words, it doesn't matter. The truth was not in his voice.'  
  
'Are you saying he is the thief?' Pippin said.  
  
'Why would he steal his own father's chickens?' Regi asked, puzzled. 'Why would he...?'  
  
'I think the proper question is why would he want to hurt Frodo Gardner?' Ferdi said. The others pondered this, while Reginard got up to refill their glasses from the ale pitcher.  
  
'We still have no proof,' Pippin said at last. 'Without hard evidence, evidence that I can hold in my hand, I cannot reverse my judgment. Frodo remains under the Ban.'  
  
'Samwise is still Mayor,' Regi said. 'He had his bad spell before he could speak.'  
  
'That won't last,' Pippin said morosely. 'He'll speak first thing, when we recommence on the morrow.'  
  
'Today, you mean,' Regi said. 'It's past middle night already.'  
  
Pippin shook his head sadly. It was well past teatime.  
  



	16. Sparkling Conversation

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Reader Poll: Are you tired of Ferdi angst? (your answers will be taken into consideration in stories currently under construction)  
  
 Xena, I like Daisy, though I wonder how typical she is for a hobbit. Ah, well, as I recall, Rose herself was not all that shy and retiring, even in the little bit we saw of her in "Scouring of the Shire".  
  
Bookworm, but I _did _tell you who was lying, truly I did. Still, if you missed the clues, all will be made clear in time.  
  
Aemilia Rose, here is the update you asked for.  
  
Miriel, you have an idea as to why the chickens were taken? Do tell! (after this is resolved, of course). I'm itching with curiosity. Or else it's time to treat the dog for fleas again. And thanks once again for the encouragement!  
  
FantasyFan, There is an awful lot of love in Chapter 15, one of the things that makes hobbits so winsome and wonderful, I think. _A detective-style miracle confession_? I do hope I managed to side-step that contrivance. Let me know how I did when we get to that part.  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**16. Sparkling Conversation**  
  
The morning dawned bright and beautiful, but apart from the usual morning noises of the birds singing, the teakettle whistling, the clinking of cutlery against stoneware, the Gamgees' breakfast was a silent one. Though only one member of the family was under the Ban, no one felt like talking at all.  
  
After breakfast, the family scattered to their chores with only the briefest of necessary conversation. Frodo retired to the parlour once again, a good place to be out of sight, where no one would be tempted to forget and talk to him. While he was there, he did Ruby's dusting for her, then sat down and tried not to think.  
  
Mardibold had prescribed a sleeping draught for the Mayor, and Samwise slept late, almost until second breakfast, which Rose brought him on a tray. He awakened groggily, and was not completely himself until his second cup of tea.  
  
'How's Frodo?' he asked at last.  
  
'He ate breakfast, that's something,' Rose said. Sam nodded. He'd been worried about the lad missing so many meals the previous day, but then, Rose hadn't eaten either, nor had he, himself.  
  
'Are you all right, Rosie?' he asked.  
  
'No, of course I'm not all right,' she said with asperity. 'Our eldest son is under the Ban for something he didn't do. How could I possibly be all right?'  
  
'You know what I mean,' Sam said patiently.  
  
She sighed. 'I ate breakfast,' she said. 'I couldn't _not_ eat breakfast, when Daisy and Primrose made all my favourites and put flowers at my place and watched to see that I ate every bite.'  
  
'Good,' Sam said. He started to swing his legs over the side of the bed, only to be stopped by his wife.  
  
'You're not going anywhere,' Rose said severely.  
  
'I'm getting up,' Sam countered.  
  
'That healer fellow said you were to stay in the bed until he arrives with the Thain,' Rose said, 'and I mean to hold you to it.'  
  
'Rose,' Sam said in exasperation. 'There's nothing wrong with me. I was a little overwrought yesterday, is all, and perfectly understandable it was.'  
  
'Don't be a ninny,' Rose said. 'I'll call all the children in to sit on you if I have to.'  
  
'Sit on me?' Sam said.  
  
'That's what they have to do with Tooks, to keep them abed,' Rose said. 'Don't think I haven't noticed, in all our visits to the Smials.'  
  
'I'm not a Took,' Sam said.  
  
'Then don't act like one,' Rose snapped. Sam tightened his lips in irritation, and she softened her tone. 'You frightened me yesterday,' she said quietly. 'Please rest this morning, Sam. For me?'  
  
'For you, Rosie,' he agreed. Taking up his cup, he drank the last of the tea and handed it to her. 'I think I'll take myself a little nap before elevenses,' he said. 'For some reason I'm still a bit tired.'  
  
'You do that, Sam,' Rose said, picking up the breakfast tray. 'I'll be back in a trice.'  
  
***  
  
When Ferdibrand entered the study, Pippin was already there. 'Hullo, Ferdi,' he announced himself, to let the other know he was at his desk.  
  
The chancellor turned his face towards the Thain. 'You're here early,' he said. 'Did you sleep at all?'  
  
'I slept,' Pippin said, then got down to business. 'I've an idea, cousin.'  
  
'O yes?' Ferdi said.  
  
'Could I borrow that necklace you gave your wife on your wedding?' Pippin said. 'It looks like something the elves made.'  
  
'It ought to, since they made it,' Ferdi said. 'What do you want it for?'  
  
'O, just a little idea I had,' Pippin said. 'Naught may come of it, but then again, you never know.'  
  
Ferdi sighed. Pip was in one of his difficult moods, where nothing he said made much sense at all, yet every word was fraught with meaning. He gave the only answer he could. 'Of course you may borrow the necklace. Will I get it back?'  
  
'There might be some doubt, I suppose, since we'll be using it to catch a thief,' Pippin said thoughtfully. At Ferdi's frown, he laughed. 'Don't worry, cousin,' he said. 'I asked to borrow it... that means I intend to give it back when I'm finished.'  
  
'And when will that be?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'You'll see,' Pippin replied absently, evidently deep in thought.  
  
Ferdi rather doubted that, blind as he was, but he made no further comment. He rose from his desk, found his way to the door, jerked it open and said, 'Who's there?' Hilly had been outside the door when he'd arrived, but the escort were constantly switching off for one reason or another.  
  
Tolly straightened up from his post by the door and identified himself.  
  
'Ah, Tolly,' Ferdi said, 'Good. I want you to go to Nell and ask her for the elven necklace. Bring it here to the study.'  
  
'All right, Ferdi,' Tolly said, 'I'll be right back.'  
  
Ferdi made his way back to his desk, felt his way around it, and sat down again. 'Any other little errands you want run, cousin?' he said.  
  
'Well, you could fetch me a pot of tea,' Pippin said, 'but on the other hand, it would be cold by the time you found your way back here from the kitchens, so just sit, if you don't mind, and repeat to me every shred of evidence we heard yesterday.'  
  
He listened carefully, nodding, asking questions, and finally sat back. 'I think I've got it,' he said.  
  
'Got what?' Ferdi asked.  
  
'That remains to be seen,' Pippin said, lapsing again into silence. Ferdi sighed. It was going to be one of those days.  
  
Reginard entered to report that the ponies were saddled, just as Tolly returned with the necklace, an exquisite elf-jewel set in intricately worked dwarf silver.  
  
'Perfect,' Pippin pronounced, taking the precious thing, wrapping it in his handkerchief and shoving it deep into a pocket. 'Let us be off.'  
  
'Mardi is already waiting in the yard,' Reginard said. 'He wanted to take another look at the Mayor this morning.'  
  
'Perhaps he can keep Samwise quiet long enough for us to get this resolved,' Pippin said. 'I do not want to hear him resign his office.'  
  
'You can say that again,' Ferdi said, then, remembering Pippin's whimsical mood, held up a hasty hand, 'but don't, cousin, if you please.'  
  
Pippin laughed.  
  
'I could use a good joke,' Regi said pointedly.  
  
'We are going to get the truth out,' Pippin said. 'Even if I have to employ trickery to do so.' He jumped up from his chair, rubbing his hands together. 'Well, time's a wasting. Let us be off.'


	17. To Catch a Thief

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Reader Poll: Are you tired of Ferdi angst? (your answers will be taken into consideration in stories currently under construction)  
  
 Xena, well, nobody likes to be called "a Took" after all ("son of a Took" is a terrible insult in the Shire), so no wonder Sam changed his tune!  
  
Madeleine, so glad to hear that you and others don't mind a bit more Ferdi angst. Jo and I are really cranking it up in "Runaway", and the sequel to 'Truth" has enough angst to go around, not just Ferdi angst but other angst as well. Whew.  
  
Aemilia Rose, cheering with you. It's about time Pip got to be clever and buoyant again. He's been pretty downtrodden, lately (well, "Merlin" was a pretty serious story, I guess)  
  
Miriel, good guess about the story's name. Often the names of these stories are multi-faceted, and can be applied to several different parts of the story. It's fun to do that!  
  
FantasyFan, Sorry you're not getting much work done, but I'm loving reading all the reviews! Honestly, you always give me much food for thought which helps in the shaping of characterisations. Thanks for taking the time!  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**17. To Catch a Thief**  
  
The four Tooks rode companionably down the New Road, two and two, Regi by Mardi's side, and Ferdi by Pippin's, the Thain guiding the chancellor's pony. Normally, they would have stopped at the Green Dragon in Bywater for a bite, but Pippin elected to forge ahead, since Mardi wanted to have time to examine Samwise before the hearing.  
  
He pronounced his patient sound. 'I could have told you that,' Sam said.  
  
'Fine, fine,' Mardibold said, not really listening. He was thinking over his instructions from the Thain, and hoping he would get things right. 'Well, then, let us join the others. I do believe they are waiting for us by the chicken yard.'  
  
Samwise buttoned his shirt and pulled up his braces, and Mardi helped him into his coat. 'You're still a bit unsteady,' he said in an undertone as they left the bedroom. 'If you feel at all odd, you be sure to let me know.' Sam nodded, then took a deep breath as Rose stepped forward to take his arm. Together, they walked out to the garden.  
  
Frodo was there, standing a little apart, and the Shirriff, as well as Ted Sandyman and his two older sons, Hodge and Ned. The Thain was sitting on the bench with Ferdi, describing their surroundings for the counsellor's benefit, while Reginard stood behind them. The rest of the Gamgee children huddled together in an uncertain group, watching and waiting, hoping for some sort of miracle.  
  
'Well, now,' Pippin said, rising and rubbing his hands together. 'We're all here, it seems.' He nodded to the miller and his sons. 'Hodge, is it?' he asked, and the miller's eldest son nodded. 'Go and fetch the rooster, will you, lad?'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Hodge said. The Shirriff took his makeshift lock from the door, and Hodge quickly caught the rooster and brought it to the Thain.  
  
'Just hold him there a moment,' Pippin said, digging in his pocket. He brought out a handkerchief, and when he unwrapped it, most of the assembled hobbits gasped. The Sun smiled upon the elven jewel in its delicately wrought setting, causing it to sparkle and shine with otherworldly fire.  
  
' 'Tis a magical thing,' Pippin said, 'Wrought by the greatest of elven smiths before he left Middle-earth, you know.' He held it up to dazzle the eyes of the observers, well pleased as he noted their reactions. 'Quite magical,' he repeated. Even the cock seemed mesmerised by the bright thing, sitting calm and quiet in Hodge's grasp.  
  
The Thain doubled the chain and slipped it over the rooster's head. 'This is a Jewel of Truth,' he announced to everyone and nobody in particular. He bent to address the rooster. 'I want you to show me the thief,' he said, and the rooster made a noise low in its throat.  
  
'Take him to the accused,' Pippin said. Under the Ban, he could not speak Frodo's name, but he hoped soon to remedy that.  
  
Hodge walked over to Frodo, then turned to the Thain for further instruction. 'Hand him over,' Pippin said, ignoring Frodo and speaking directly to Hodge. The miller's son nodded, extending the cock to Frodo, who took it in his arms, holding it expertly. He had, after all, had his turn at taking care of the chickens. He knew how to handle a bird, keep it calm.  
  
'Hmmm,' the Thain said, obviously puzzled. 'This is very strange.'  
  
'What is?' the Shirriff asked.  
  
'Well,' Pippin said, 'If... the accused... were the thief, the cock should have spoken clearly. It's elf magic, you know. With the power of the necklace, the cock will cry out "Thief!" clear as anything when the thief touches him.'  
  
'Really!' the Shirriff said in awe and astonishment. Elves were certainly a wondrous folk.  
  
'Aye,' the Thain said, scratching his head. 'I do not understand it.' He thought a moment. 'Perhaps it takes some time to take effect,' he said. 'Let us try again. Shirriff, if you wouldn't mind, take the cock and bring him here, to Mr Sandyman.'  
  
The Shirriff obeyed, managing not to meet Frodo's eyes as he took the bird away and brought it to its master. Ted took the rooster, crooning deep in his throat, and the cock answered with a croon of his own. 'All right, now, Ted, you take the bird to the accused,' Pippin said. 'The spell ought to have had enough time to work by now.'  
  
The miller nodded, brought the cock to Frodo, transferred it to his arms and stepped away. Still no magical pronouncement was forthcoming.  
  
'Did you give the cock to the thief yet?' Ferdi asked. 'I didn't hear him speak.'  
  
'Well, yes, twice,' Pippin said. 'I do not understand this at all. I know I have seen it work before. You do not think the necklace could have lost its power, do you?'  
  
'I find that hardly likely,' Ferdi said. 'It is a very powerful spell. My wife cannot tell a lie, you know, very handy bauble it is, indeed.'  
  
Pippin suppressed a smile, affecting to be instead puzzled and disturbed. 'Well,' he said finally. 'I think we must needs take another tack. Ned, would you bring the bird back to me?'  
  
Ned Sandyman started. 'Me, Sir?' he asked.  
  
'Yes, of course,' Pippin answered. 'You're closest.' He had carefully placed everyone before the start of the hearing, without seeming to do so, simply by drawing each one into conversation and moving to the spot where he wanted each to stand.  
  
'I...' Ned gulped, then squared his shoulders and walked over to Frodo. He extended his hands to the rooster, but pulled back before touching it.  
  
'Is there a problem?' the Thain asked, his tone not so light and pleasant as previously.  
  
'No, not at all,' Ned said, putting out his hand again. The rooster fixed him with a bright eye, and he could not bring himself to touch the bird.  
  
Ted Sandyman's heart sank. 'Ned?' he said quietly.  
  
'I didn't do it!' Ned said, desperately.  
  
'Didn't do what?' his father asked.  
  
'Take the bird,' the Thain snapped.  
  
Ned started to reach out a third time, then snatched his hand back. 'No!' he shouted. 'No, he'll call me a thief, and it's a lie, it's not true, it's devilry, not magic!'  
  
'Why would he call you a thief?' Pippin asked softly.  
  
Ted was shaking his head sadly, and Hodge's face was a mixture of horror and despair. 'O Ned,' the miller breathed. 'Why?'  
  
'I did it for you!' Ned shouted suddenly, turning to his older brother, whose every word he hung on, who was always right, always there when Ned needed him. 'Those Gamgees, thinking they were so high and mighty; that Frodo, leaving you in the mud. So you weren't good enough for his sister, were you? Not good enough...' he broke down into sobs. 'Not good enough...'


	18. Tying Up Loose Ends

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Xena, it was certainly a relief for the truth to come out, and fun to write the "old" clever Pippin rather than someone so weighed down by worries that he hardly speaks!  
  
Bookworm, that magical rooster ploy gets 'em every time.  
  
Hai, cheering with you! Got just a little bit more angst to get through until the news is spread. Why is it bad news always seems to spread faster than good news?  
  
Aemilia Rose, how did Pippin ever come up with the idea? I have no idea. He's like that, you know, his mind jumps in unexpected directions.  
  
FantasyFan, Ned is only a tween, and heedless of the consequences of his actions. He sees this as "getting back" at the Gamgees. Only with maturity will come the wisdom and the terrible knowledge of what he's done to another, and thankfully this situation was cut off before it got too ugly for him to bear when he's older, looking back. BTW, the healer's instructions will come out in a future chapter.  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**18. Tying Up Loose Ends**  
  
It was nearly noontide, and they were making excellent time when Fastred reined in his pony and turned to Elanor. 'Well, my love, would you like to take a breather, get off the ponies, stretch your legs?'  
  
Elanor looked down at their sleeping babe, cuddled against her in the pack her mother had worn to carry Tolman home from Gondor. 'No,' she said softly. 'We're in the midst of a nice dream, I think, and besides, Little Mum's getting hungry. If we press on we should arrive in good time for the nooning.'  
  
'We cannot have Little Mum hungry,' Fastred agreed, smiling at his wife. 'Very well, we shall press on.' He leaned forward on his pony, and the beast needed no other encouragement. They were close to the Smials, heading in the proper direction, and the call of the stables grew stronger with every stride.  
  
Coming into the yard before the Great Smials, Elanor stretched in the saddle. It was good to be home! She turned to Fastred and said, 'I can hardly wait to ride to Hobbiton to tell Mum Rosie's news!'  
  
'Another grandchild on the way,' Fastred said with a grin. 'How does it feel to be almost-an-auntie?'  
  
'Nearly as grand as almost-a-mum,' Elanor said, 'and much less work needed on my part.' The babe was stretching and stirring, and soon would be wakening, making demands of his willing slaves.  
  
'And soon Frodo will be marrying, and your mum will be "out of knees".'  
  
'Such a terrible problem!' Elanor laughed. 'She'll have to allow Dad to hold one of the babes whilst she cuddles the other two.'  
  
Fastred didn't answer. It was not likely that Rose Gamgee would have the problem of three babes at one cuddle, with Rosie-lass in Greenholm. He sighed again for the open spaces they were leaving behind, the broad sweep of plain beyond the Far Downs. Elanor was honouring her parents, and who was he to dissuade her from her duty?  
  
Elanor did not notice his change of mood, for the babe's eyes had opened and she was drowning in their depths. 'Who's my little sweetie-pie?' she crooned. 'Who's my little apple tart? Who's my love, then?'  
  
The usual grin was missing from the stable lad's face as he stepped forward to take their ponies.  
  
'What's wrong?' Fastred asked, jumping down, hesitating a moment before going to Elanor's side to help her down.  
  
'Welcome, sir,' was all the lad said. 'You're in good time for the nooning meal, they've not yet sat down to eat in the great room.'  
  
'Can we take our meal in our rooms?' Elanor said. 'I don't wish to face a raft of questions just yet...' She frowned, for the lad would not meet her eyes, simply took her pony's bridle along with Fastred's and stood stroking the beast. She took Fastred's outstretched hand and slid down from her own saddle.  
  
'That sounds like a good idea,' Fastred said with a glance at the stable lad, who met his glance only briefly before dropping his eyes. To the stable lad, he said, 'Give them a good cooling out and rubdown, they've earned it.'  
  
'Very good, sir,' was all the lad said, and led the ponies away as if relieved to be out of their presence.  
  
'We'll get you and the little one settled, and I'll go in search of sustenance,' Fastred said smoothly to Elanor. He could see that she was bothered as well. The usual cheerful talk was going on in the yard, he noted, but as they approached the main entrance to the Smials, the doorward and the two hobbits who were engaging him in talk feel silent. They avoided Elanor's eyes, fixing their gazes on Fastred as they welcomed the twain back to the Smials.  
  
Once inside, Elanor said, 'What was that about? I do not understand.' She was upset, Fastred noted, and rightly so.  
  
'I do not know, but I will get to the bottom of it,' he said grimly. He noted that no one greeted Elanor on their way to their rooms, but it seemed to be more of a sympathetic silence, having no overtones of blame that he could detect.  
  
Once in their rooms, he quickly changed out of his travel-stained clothing, washed his hands and face, and kissed his wife, who'd changed the babe and was now nursing him. 'I'll be back soon with our own food, and news,' he said. She smiled at him and once again absorbed herself in cuddling and chuckling.  
  
In truth, Elanor had nearly forgotten the odd reception when Fastred returned, tray in hands and face expressionless. 'What is it, love?' she asked. Little Elfstan, having finished his own nooning, lay on his blanket smiling up at them, playing with his toes.  
  
'You eat first,' he said, 'then we'll talk.' He wanted to make sure she got food into her, for the babe's sake as well as her own, before upsetting her with the news. His own appetite had deserted him, but he forced himself to eat.  
  
Puzzled, Elanor applied herself to her food. It wasn't death or accident, she mused, for Fastred would have told her at once about such a thing; indeed, he'd have ordered their ponies saddled, and they'd be on their way to Bag End, probably eating as they rode. No, whatever it was, it was not so urgent that they could not take time to eat. Nevertheless, she did not make a leisurely meal, but cleared her plate quickly and efficiently, then turned to her husband.  
  
'Well?' she asked.  
  
Strange, the malady that affected the Tooks must be catching. Fastred seemed reluctant to meet her eyes.  
  
'What is it?' Elanor pressed.  
  
There was no way to soften the blow. 'Frodo's been put under the Ban,' he answered.  
  
A half smile came to Elanor's face, she said, 'Fastred, you should not joke about such a...' Her words trailed off as she took in his expression, and her look changed to shock.  
  
'Shunned?' she whispered. He nodded. 'Whatever for?'  
  
'Thievery,' he said reluctantly.  
  
She stared at him, speechless, for a few breaths. 'Frodo?' she said incredulously.  
  
Fastred nodded. 'Fresh ponies are saddled,' he said. 'How soon can we leave for Hobbiton?'  
  
'We're ready now,' Elanor said. 'Whatever was the Thain thinking?'  
  
'We're going to find out,' Fastred said grimly.  
  
***  
  
Ted Sandyman had gone back to the mill with his two sons and four chickens. The Thain would deal with Ned later; for the moment he had his hands full undoing the injustice done to Frodo.  
  
'What do we do now?' Sam asked, while Frodo listened intently. It was the question he would have asked, had the Ban not tied his tongue. Even though the culprit had been found, he could not begin talking again until the sentence was formally lifted, so strong was custom in the life of hobbits of the Shire.  
  
'There is precedent,' Reginard said.  
  
Of a wonder, Pippin laughed. 'There was value in poring over and copying out those dusty old records after all,' he said with a wry grin to his Steward. Regi smiled briefly, thinking of how Pippin had chafed at his father's demands. 'Where, do you think?' Pippin asked now. 'It was pronounced at the Smials... reversed in Hobbiton...'  
  
'Your son does much of his business in Bywater, does he not?' Regi asked Samwise, who nodded.  
  
'Bywater, then,' Pippin said. 'All right, Nod, bind the accused.'  
  
'Bind him?' Rose gasped. Sam's arm tightened about her. Pippin knew what he was doing. At least that's what Sam hoped.  
  
'There is precedent, and tradition, for what we are about to do, Rose,' Pippin said kindly. 'Your son shall not be harmed, all appearances to the contrary.' The binding had been accomplished swiftly and efficiently, and the Thain said now, 'Gag him.'  
  
Rose's mouth opened in astonishment as the Shirriff gently carried out this order. She was as silent as Frodo as they walked back to the waiting waggon. 'Bring your family,' Pippin said to Samwise. 'They shall want to see this.'  
  
The entire Gamgee family piled into the waggon, silent with shock at the sight of Frodo sitting between Samwise and Nod on the seat. The four Tooks mounted their ponies, but without a word Reginard kicked his pony to a brisk pace, proceeding down the Hill ahead of the rest.  
  
Mardi took up the guide rein of Ferdi's pony, saying, 'Shall we ride together, cousin?'  
  
Ferdi nodded with a smile. 'Wouldn't want to end up in Buckland,' he answered pleasantly, 'and miss all the fun.'  
  



	19. Restoring Justice

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Xena, Fastred and Elanor was just one of those afterthoughts, you know? As in "ok, in my private canon, F&E are living at the Great Smials, F is Ferdi's assistant, after all, being groomed to (eventually) take over the Westmarch, as we all know is bound to happen." Anyhow, I got to Chapter 18 (writing-wise) and realised I had left them out completely. It was either re-write, or forge ahead and stick them in as plausibly as could be...  
  
Bookworm, awww. I used to have that problem (confusing Frodos) until I read a description of Frodo-lad in Tolkien's epilogue that said he was a perfect copy of Sam. So now I see Sam when I look at him.  
  
Hai, you will find out the answers to some of your questions, at least, today.  
  
Aemilia Rose, I hope Pippin knows what he's doing, as well! (but seriously, I think he does)  
  
FantasyFan, another lovely, long, thoughtfully written review! You spoil me (don't stop! Being spoilt is such fun!). You are right, Pippin certainly has a flair for the dramatic. Wonder what he would have become, had he not become Thain? Your comments on speaking and silence were very insightful. One of the definitions I have for "meek" is "knowing when to be silent and when to speak". Would you say hobbits, as a rule, fit this description?  
  
Miriel, Fastred is very sharp; after all, I wrote him to be a hunter, like Ferdi. He'd have to be sharp anyhow, or how would he go from obscurity to Warden of Westmarch in a few short years? I had to keep reminding myself that he must prove himself in a relatively short time. You are welcome, and thanks for the encouragement!  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**19. Restoring Justice**  
  
By the time the waggon reached the bottom of the Hill, slow as the going had to be, brake applied for the entire descent, of course, Reginard was waiting at the bottom with two quickpost riders plus another hobbit, horns in hand, astride fast ponies.  
  
The Thain reined in his pony. 'You know what to blow?' he said.  
  
'Yessir,' one of the quickpost riders replied. 'Shiremoot, in Bywater, without delay.'  
  
'Good. Be off with you!' The riders rode off in three directions, lifting their horns to their lips to blow the muster. As curious hobbits came to their doors, the heralds shouted, 'Shiremoot! Bywater! Hurry!'  
  
'We've sent out the invitations,' Pippin said, 'now shall we make our way to the party?'  
  
'Wild ponies could not drag me away,' Ferdi replied, and Mardi laughed.  
  
They proceeded at a decorous pace down the road to Bywater, followed by an ever-growing crowd of hobbits which soon swelled to a murmuring throng. A few rode ponies or drove waggons, but the majority walked, and the Thain maintained a slow pace to accommodate his invited guests.  
  
Looking behind him, he remarked to Regi, 'Ah, I see the good folk of Overhill have got the word.' Regi glanced back to see a steady procession of hobbits descending the Hill to join the parade.  
  
'We should have the majority of Hobbiton and all of Bywater,' he answered.  
  
'Good, good,' Pippin said with a nod. 'The more the merrier, eh, Ferdi?'  
  
'You have the right of it, cousin,' Ferdi replied. He was in a very good humour, remembering back to the lifting of his own undeserved shunning. 'We shall have quite the celebration.'  
  
Pippin reined his pony closer to the waggon and addressed Samwise. 'Look at the crowd,' he said cheerily. 'Would you like us to stop so that you may make a speech? Election's coming up soon.' Sam stared at him in shock, and he chuckled.  
  
'I am glad you did not have the chance to renounce the Mayorship earlier,' Pippin added. 'Mardi had his orders to stifle you and bundle you into bed, claiming delirium, should you try to do so this morning.'  
  
'Did you have in mind that I needed a larger audience?' Sam said.  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'All will be well, Samwise, truly it shall. Not only are we going to overturn the Ban, but we are going to make sure that no idle talk shall hurt your son afterwards.' He nodded to himself, his smile disappearing, and added grimly. 'O aye, we shall make absolutely certain.'  
  
***  
  
Viola Burrows turned from her kneading as the door crashed open. 'What in the world, Rus?' she asked in astonishment. He was always chiding their young sons for such precipitous behaviour.  
  
'They're blowing the Shire moot,' he gasped. He'd run all the way home from the garden he'd been hoeing.  
  
'Shire moot!' she said, wiping her floury hands on her apron. 'What is it? Fire? Foes?' She doubted it was ruffians, what with the King's guardsmen outside the Bounds and the Mayor's Shirriffs inside the Shire.  
  
'I do not know, but they're calling everyone in the area to Bywater, so we shall be in the thick of it, whatever it is,' he said. 'Gather the children and we'll go together.'  
  
Throwing a dampened tea towel over the dough on the table, she hastened to comply. 'Daisy, run a comb through Tansy's curls, there's a love,' she said, and scolded her youngest daughter for good measure. 'I do not know how you manage to look as if you've been caught in a whirlwind after all the trouble we took with your hair this morn...'  
  
With her husband adding his urging, the whole Burrows family was quickly ready to join the crowd on the way to Bywater's market square, open and empty since it was not a market day, but soon filled with hobbits. Much talk and speculation was going on around them. Rusty scanned the sky once again for smoke; no, it seemed there was no fire on the horizon, and the call for the Hobbitry-in-arms had not been sounded, merely the call to muster.  
  
The Thain came into sight, leading the little group from Bag End, one of the quickpost riders by his side, for he'd galloped to catch them once he'd reached the end of the Overhill road and turned around. Rusty's arm went around his wife as he recognised the figures in the waggon; he heard his oldest daughter's choking cry.  
  
'What is it?' Viola whispered, heard clearly in the silence that fell over the crowd. 'Haven't they done enough? They have to humiliate the family publicly, in addition to ruining the son?'  
  
'Looks as if you were wrong, Bill,' the gaffer said to the proprietor of the Green Dragon, who nodded soberly in return.  
  
'The Thain's out to make an example of him,' Rusty said grimly. 'Been so long since there's been a thief in the Shire, he's going to use this as a lesson for all, especially the young ones, it seems.'  
  
'I expect that part of it's to allow the Mayor to announce his resignation in front of the largest crowd possible,' Ches added as he joined them. The little group of regulars from the Green Dragon stood together now in silence as the Gamgees' waggon pulled into the square.  
  
What little conversation there was quickly died when the quickpost rider blew a final call on his horn. 'Hobbits of Bywater, Hobbiton, and Overhill!' he cried. 'Heed the words of the Thain!'  
  
The market square was silent, save the soft sobs of Viola Burrows and her daughters. The Thain surveyed the crowd for a long moment before speaking. Many of these, he knew, had been busily listening to and then spreading talk about Frodo, painting him blacker than shadow on a moonless night. He intended to flood them with light before the day was out. He spoke, his voice pitched exactly to reach the edge of the crowd.  
  
'I come before you this day to confess a grave error,' he said. 'Injustice done, an innocent hobbit accused and placed under the Ban.'  
  
Daisy gulped, mid-sob, and stood stock-still, while her father's hand tightened on her own.  
  
'The truth has been uncovered this day, and so I come before you to publicly confess my error, and to lift the Ban that I imposed yesterday.' The Thain turned to the Shirriff, who ceremoniously removed the gag from Frodo's mouth.  
  
'Frodo Gamgee Gardner,' Pippin said, emphasis on each word, rolling out the name with great satisfaction, a name that, under the Ban, could not be spoken, not until the Ban was lifted. 'I set you free.' He waited for Nod to cut the bonds tying Frodo's wrists. 'I lift the Ban, I restore your good name, I welcome you back to the community.'  
  
A cheer went up. Sam threw his arms around Frodo, Merry and Pippin rose in the back of the waggon to embrace their brother from behind, Rose hugged Goldi, and the rest of the Gamgees exchanged joyful hugs in the waggon bed. Shirriff Nod held out a hand to the Mayor. 'Congratulations,' he said.   
  
Sam took the hand and gave it a solemn shake. 'You were just doing your job, old friend,' he said.  
  
'I don't seem to be doing a very good job of it,' Nod shook his head. 'Perhaps I ought to turn in my feather.'  
  
'Don't you dare,' Frodo said to him. 'You take more care at your job than most hobbits I know, and I appreciate that you gave me every chance you could. There was no way of knowing Ned was lying... I still don't know how the Thain...' he was swept away, then, pulled down from his seat by his jubilant friends, who lifted him to their shoulders.  
  
'To the Green Dragon,' Ferdi shouted. 'The Thain's buying the first round!' The cheers swelled to a deafening roar, then tapered off as hobbits headed to the inn.  
  
'Ferdi!' Regi rebuked him, but he only shrugged and smiled.  
  
'It seemed like a good idea at the time,' Ferdi said, 'and Pip must pay for his crimes, after all.'  
  
Pippin laughed, and said, 'Well we had better make our way to the Dragon ourselves! If I'm buying the beer, I ought to get one of the first mugs, don't you think?'  
  



	20. New Beginnings

Notes to Readers:   
  
Thanks for the reviews! You might not realise how helpful they are, but indeed... they are.   
  
Xena, my family looks at me oddly all the time, I fear... I, too, liked the juxtaposition of light and darkness, where gossip is dark (as it so often is) and truth sheds light on the matter.  
  
Madeleine, thanks for the encouragement. It was good to hear what parts worked best for you. I strive, most of all, for believability, though sometimes I get sidetracked.  
  
Bookworm, it is nice to come out the other end of the tunnel. Glad you're feeling better.  
  
Hai, I think the way that hobbit justice works, it won't be hanging over Frodo's head at all.  
  
Aemilia Rose, yep, Pippin pulled it off. Hobbit romance, what fun! Actually, there is a sequel to this story, a comedy of sorts, about Frodo and Daisy's wedding day. However, it exists now as a preliminary outline, the barest sketch, so you won't see it right after this story, but I do hope it will get written.  
  
FantasyFan, travelling entertainer, yes, I do believe Pip missed his calling. Imagine him travelling about Gondor, amazing the inhabitants with sleights of hand and picking up all those complimentary mugs of beer. In this chapter, you'll see a couple of loose ends tied up, but of course there are a few more. A chicken dinner? Wicked sense of humour...  
  
Miriel, I do believe that the last few chapters will deal mostly with Goldi's story. That is only fair and right, since she started out the story, originally, and kind of got shoved in the cupboard by another plot point. *** Ferdi usually knows just how far to go, and manages not to step over that line. Most of the time.  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**20. New Beginnings**  
  
Folk had spilled out the door of the Green Dragon; really there wasn't room to contain them all, but they solved that problem by making merry in the street and the market square as well as the common room of the inn. Quite a few locals had run home to fetch mugs so that the beer could continue to flow freely, and the "first round" had grown alarmingly before the innkeeper stopped tallying what the Thain owed him, and started charging for refills.  
  
Elanor and Fastred rode into the middle of the celebration. They were on their way to Bag End, of course, to commiserate with the Gamgees, but found their way impeded by the merrymakers. Bywater was an improvement on Tuckborough in that no one ignored Elanor. On the contrary, when she was recognised, she was hailed with cheery greetings from all sides.  
  
To her alarm, hands seized the bridle of her pony and led her to the Green Dragon, Fastred beside her, but the folk seemed so joyous that her initial alarm faded to confusion. Looking over at Fastred, she saw the same perplexity, but he nodded to her to allow matters to proceed. Hopefully they'd find the answer within the inn.  
  
As they entered the inn, a cheer went up and Elanor saw, to her consternation, that her family were at the center of the celebration. What in the world...? She gasped when she saw Frodo lifting a mug, rope still about his wrist though his hands were no longer tied together, the bonds obviously cut.  
  
'Whatever is going on?' she shouted in Fastred's ear as they were pushed forward. Little Elfstan was awake, eyes wide with wonder at the noise and confusion.  
  
'Ban's been lifted, somehow!' her husband shouted back, and at the realisation, the heavy weight on her heart lifted and her colour began to return. They reached the Gamgees and were enveloped in hugs, mugs shoved into their hands, cheers rising around them.  
  
'What's happened?' Elanor asked Frodo, when she could make herself heard. Of course, there was no way for him to go into the entire story, not in this bedlam, but he communicated the most important detail.  
  
'The Thain found a way to get at the truth!' he replied, and Elanor looked about for Thain Peregrin. He ought to be easy to spot, being the tallest hobbit she knew, but he was nowhere to be seen, nor did she remember seeing him in the market square. Ah, well, she'd have a mug and enjoy the celebration while it lasted. Plenty of time to catch up on the news over supper this evening, after all...  
  
***  
  
By contrast, the kitchen at the mill was very quiet. The Thain sat at the table with the miller, sipping a cup of tea, thinking, waiting.  
  
Ted Sandyman broke the silence. 'Will you put Ned under the Ban, then?' he asked, dread in his voice.  
  
'Hard to charge him as a thief when he took the chickens from his own family,' Pippin said quietly. 'Malice, now, that's another story.'  
  
Ted shook his head. 'All my old bitterness, coming back to haunt me,' he said sadly. 'When the old Thain put me under the Ban, for two years, for throwing in my lot with the ruffians, well, I thought I'd die.'  
  
'You didn't die,' Pippin observed.  
  
A wry smile lifted the corner of the miller's mouth. 'No, as a matter of fact,' he agreed. 'It was a good thing, in the end. Gave me plenty of time to think. And then, when the Ban was lifted, and folk started talking to me again...' he shook his head in wonder. 'Welcomed me back into the community, as if I'd been washed clean...'  
  
'That's how it is supposed to work, anyhow,' Pippin said.  
  
'Well it still took me some years to tame my tongue,' Ted said with a sip of his own tea. 'I fear I took much pleasure in making others squirm, even after I'd supposedly learnt my lesson.'  
  
'So what cured you?' Pippin asked conversationally.  
  
'A fine lass,' Ted said. 'I thought none would look twice at me, but she did.' He was silent, his eyes looking inward. 'Married me, gave me two fine sons...' He took a deep breath. 'Died birthing the third, ah, Cori, how could you leave me so?' He took a long draught of his tea, wishing it were something stronger.  
  
'I cannot let Ned off scot-free,' Pippin said. 'You know that.'  
  
'I know,' Ted said. 'My own malice against Samwise Gamgee has come to fruit in my son.'  
  
'Why?' Pippin asked, curious.  
  
'Rosie Cotton,' Ted said quietly. 'I fancied myself in love with her at one time, and she had eyes only for the gardener's son. Not to mention his soft job, the favour of the rich Bagginses.' He snorted softly. 'Of course, I'd never have wanted his job, had I known what would come of it. Who'd've thought that shy young Samwise would follow his master all the way to the Black Land...?' He shook his head. 'He earned Rosie's love, and welcome to it, I say.'  
  
He lifted his mug in a toast, sipped, and put it down. 'But I did not know the story for a long time... he never talked of it, you know. All I could see was those bright young cousins of Mr Baggins, riding about the Shire like knights of errantry, and Samwise traipsing about planting trees, and all the admiration they garnered, ah, it was bitter as I paid my time of shunning.'  
  
'And so...' Pippin prompted.  
  
'And so I spoke of my bitterness, to my sons, in the long dark evenings after my wife and youngest son were taken from me. Another bitter blow, for there went Samwise with his Rosie, babe after babe safely born. By the time I heard enough of the story to hush my grumbling, it was too late for my sons; I'd already poisoned them with my bitterness.'  
  
'Hodge seems well enough,' Pippin said.  
  
'He has a good head on his shoulders,' Ted said, allowing a little pride to show through. 'But he was rude to young Goldi Gamgee, and Frodo had every right to knock him down. I wish Ned could have seen it that way.' He met the Thain's eye again. 'Will you put Ned under the Ban?'  
  
'What alternative do I have? He acted in malice, and nearly got Frodo shunned, unjustly, for an entire year.'  
  
'What if I take him away?' Ted asked. The Thain lifted an eyebrow. 'What if we move to the new territory?' the miller continued. 'Make a fresh start, away from the Gamgees. Hard work and a new beginning, heal the bitterness, show him that moving forwards is preferable to looking back.'  
  
'You could take him out of the community,' Pippin said slowly, 'but if he did not pay his due, he'd not be welcome back.'  
  
'I know that,' Ted said. 'Yet I think shunning would ruin him, drown him in bitterness. I look to save him, to find healing for him.'  
  
'Then you had better take him,' Pippin said.  
  
Ted nodded. 'There's nothing for me here,' he continued. 'Save the graves of my love and my littlest, and when my time comes... well, I suppose Hodge can bring me back to lie beside them.'  
  
'I suppose he can,' Pippin said. 'He's done no wrong that I know of, and if he apologises to Goldilocks Gamgee...'  
  
'He already has,' Ted said.  
  
Pippin nodded. 'Then he's free to go, or come, as he pleases,' he said.  
  
'We'll go,' the miller said, 'just as soon as I find a buyer for the mill.' He drank the last of his tea, set the mug down on the table. 'A fresh start,' he said softly. 'A new beginning. It's a promising thought.'


	21. What Happened That Evening

Notes to Readers:   
  
Have I told you lately how much I appreciate my reviewers, especially those of you who take the time to send me regular notes? I certainly do.   
  
Xena, I think I'd rather be a hobbit than a fly on the wall—bet the flies didn't get much of that free beer! Ted Sandyman was an interesting character to write. When you look at people in real life, they don't remain static. I could not simply write Ted as he was in LOTR, he either had to be worse, or better, in my estimation, and, with the esteem I have for hobbits, I chose to write him "better".  
  
Bookworm, I figure that that Ban must work in most situations or why would they have it? (besides the fact that I made it up...).  
  
Hai, I personally prefer being prepared for the worst and pleasantly surprised. Thanks!  
  
Aemilia Rose, don'tcha love hobbit parties?  
  
FantasyFan, Pardon me for this short reply but I have a co'd in the head and am toddling off to bed soon. You have written another lovely character analysis. I will take your hinting under consideration; after all, there is a sequel to this story in existence, in rough outline at least, wanting lots of details to be filled in. Do you really enjoy such torture? *g*  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
**21. What Happened That Evening**  
  
That evening, the Gamgees attended a feast in the great room of the Great Smials, for the Thain had requested that Frodo and his family accompany him to the Smials, that the Tooks might see that the Ban had been lifted. The Tooks made very merry indeed, though Faramir seemed a bit more subdued than usual, paying more heed to his plate than to the Gamgee family.  
  
More than once, Merry Gamgee had to call his name to gain his attention, and the son of the Thain would smile politely before once again becoming absorbed in his plate.  
  
'Must be his favourite dish,' Pippin-lad murmured to his brother.  
  
'Doesn't want to miss a bite,' Merry Gamgee murmured in return. Goldi shot both her brothers a pained look and then turned to the chancellor with a determined smile.  
  
'Uncle Ferdi, the necklace isn't really magic, now, is it?' she said.  
  
'Well now, that depends,' he said.  
  
'Depends on what?' she asked.  
  
'On who wears it,' Ferdi said. 'When that rooster wore it, I'm told it shone with astonishing fire; however, when my wife puts it on, it pales by comparison.'  
  
'It only goes to show I'm prettier than a chicken,' Pimpernel smiled, and the children shouted with laughter.  
  
'Though you'd hardly know it, I am that hen-pecked, you know,' Ferdi said with a martyred expression, and his wife jabbed him, hard, with her elbow.  
  
'Ow!' he complained. 'Go and peck on someone who can defend himself.'  
  
'You poor dear,' Pimpernel said. 'I'd forgotten how helpless you are.' She covered his hand with her own. 'How many ruffians was it, now, that you slew after you were blinded?'  
  
'Four, I think,' Pippin said from further down the table.  
  
'No, 'twas five,' Ferdi returned with dignity. 'But I had the advantage. They thought I was helpless, as well.'  
  
'Hurrah for Ferdi,' Frodo shouted, raising his glass. He'd heard the Thain tell his father how Ferdi had discerned the truth. If not for Ferdibrand, he'd be under the Ban this very moment. The rest took up the call, and a toast was drunk by all in the great room. The chancellor inclined his head gravely.  
  
'I see you are finally discovering my true worth, Pip,' he said to the Thain. 'I should take this auspicious moment to request an increase in my salary.'  
  
Pippin laughed in answer, and Ferdi pressed, 'Was that an "aye"?'  
  
'Nay!' the Thain called over the laughter. 'But you have my undying gratitude, Ferdi!'  
  
'Undying gratitude won't buy me any ponies,' Ferdi said in return.  
  
Pimpernel interceded. 'Here, my love,' she said, refilling his glass. 'Tookland's finest, from the Thain's private stock.'  
  
'All right, then,' Ferdi said, lifting the glass to his lips for an appreciative sip. 'I suppose, as long as the Thain's undying gratitude means glassfuls of his private stock, I shall seek to be contented.'  
  
***  
  
That evening, Samwise and Pippin sat in the Thain's study, sipping some of the finest ale in Tookland, after the feast was over.  
  
'How can I ever thank you?' Sam said.  
  
'What, for putting your son under the Ban? No thanks are due me for that,' Pippin answered.  
  
'That is not what I meant,' Sam said stubbornly. 'You saved Frodo, you know. He'd have lived under the Ban for the entire year, like as not, but folk would still have branded him a thief after it was all through. He'd never have anyone's trust again, and Rus Burrows would have made sure no wedding took place in the Spring.'  
  
'When you put it that way...' Pippin mused.  
  
'I feel I owe you... something,' Samwise persisted. He saw the Thain's face brighten, and asked, 'What?'  
  
'There _is_ something I would like,' Pippin admitted.  
  
'Name it,' Samwise said recklessly. 'It's yours.'  
  
'Your daughter,' Pippin said.  
  
Sam's mouth fell open, and remained so for a good while before he had the presence of mind to shut it again. 'My...' he said.  
  
Pippin nodded, grinning. 'That's right,' he said encouragingly. 'I want your daughter.' He put up a hand. 'Not for me, mind, but for my son.'  
  
'You want Goldi?' Sam said slowly, understanding dawning.  
  
'I want them to have a chance,' Pippin said. 'O perhaps it is not meant to be, perhaps _they_ are not meant to be, but how will we ever know if we snuff their flame before it's even alight?'  
  
'But what about the Tooks?' Sam said.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'They'll talk about Farry no matter what,' he said. 'And you know that Goldi's already being gossiped about in Bywater and Hobbiton. Hobbits talk, it's a great sport of ours. Let us give them something to talk about, then!'  
  
Sam looked unconvinced, but Pippin pressed on.  
  
'You should have seen the folk around here after word got out that I'd pronounced Frodo under the Ban,' he said. 'I thought for sure they'd throw me out, or call the healers to declare me prematurely senile or somewhat. Your family is very well thought of around here, Sam, and this... incident with Frodo has opened my eyes to it.'  
  
He took a long pull from his glass and went on. 'Surely, there will be some mothers disappointed that their daughters couldn't catch Faramir, but they'd be disappointed anyhow, for the lad can only marry one lass, now, can't he?' He shot Samwise a searching look. 'Can we not give them a chance, Samwise?'  
  
'I do not know,' Sam said slowly.  
  
'Think on it,' Pippin continued. 'He's in line to be Thain after me, so the lad has good prospects for the future, I'd say. And he'll have to live here to do that, so he and his family'll never go too far from Hobbiton, that'll be a factor in his favour as far as your Rosie is concerned.'  
  
'Unless they happen to travel to Gondor to visit the King,' Sam said. 'That's all too likely, from the stories he told Goldi after his return. They were already planning...'  
  
'Were they, now?' Pippin said softly. 'I find that quite interesting.'  
  
'I...' Sam said, then stopped to take a long pull from his own glass. 'All right,' he said finally. 'We will give them a chance.' He looked up, to meet the Thain's keen eye. 'But I still owe you much...'  
  
'You do not owe me a thing,' Pippin said stoutly. 'I would say things are now even between us.'  
  
***  
  
That evening, Ferdibrand sat back with a sigh of satisfaction after recounting the events of the day to his spellbound family.  
  
'I am so glad my brother is so devious,' Pimpernel murmured. She gazed sharply at the children. 'Don't you go taking after him...'  
  
Laughing, they all promised. 'Now,' Pimpernel said, 'you've had your story... off to bed with the lot of you!'  
  
With a chorus of "Good nights" and a shower of kisses, they were on their way, the tweens herding the younger ones before them as Pimpernel rose to turn down all the lamps, leaving only a single candle burning on the table by the sofa. 'There,' she said, 'nice and cosy,' and she resumed her seat beside him, and renewed her grip upon her husband's hand.  
  
'Ah, that reminds me,' Ferdi said, digging in a pocket with his free hand. 'Here you are, my love, safe and sound.' He kissed Pimpernel, then pulled his hand from hers, needing both hands to undo the clasp and slip the elven necklace around her neck.  
  
'There, 'tis once again where it belongs, gracing the loveliest throat in the Shire,' he murmured, his fingers fastening the clasp, then moving to her face. She closed her eyes against the butterfly touch as he gently traced her features.  
  
'I'd always heard Estella Brandybuck was the loveliest in the Shire,' she whispered, an old, familiar joke of theirs.  
  
'She doesn't hold a candle to you...' he said softly, pulling her hair free of its constraining net to allow it to cascade over her shoulders, twining his fingers in the curls. 'There, now,' he added, in a satisfied tone. 'I imagine you look much the same as the wild lass with the flying hair I chased through the farmyard with the handful of mud...'  
  
'Which you proceeded to stuff down the back of my bodice, as I recall,' she chuckled.  
  
'Ah, 'twas the best use of mud that this lad ever thought of,' he said, his fingers returning to her face. Something in his voice caused her to open her eyes, and to her astonishment she saw tears upon his cheeks, belying his light tone.  
  
'Ferdi, my love, what is it?' she whispered.  
  
'Ah, lass,' he said, 'my Nell, my own...' He turned his face away, as if to hide his grief. 'What I would give just to see your face again...'  
  
'O my love,' she whispered, pulling him close, kissing the tears from his face, until he turned to her once more. She blew out the single candle, and their arms went around each other; so they sat a long while in the darkness, together.


	22. Invitation to Tea

Notes to Readers:   
  
Have I told you lately how much I appreciate my reviewers, especially those of you who take the time to send me regular notes? I certainly do.   
  
Xena, the number of slain ruffians is rising? Really? I was quite sure it was seven… Honestly, I'm sure Ferdi mentioned just the other day it was seven, or did he say eight? On the serious side... claustrophobic, what a keen insight. I'd imagine that's very much what he feels.  
  
Bookworm, while I try not to give away plot points in advance, I must warn you not to get your hopes up. At least, not in this particular story. BTW, your parents sound like fun folk.  
  
Hai, Thank _you_ for the kind words. They help immensely as I enter that phase where I cannot tell if anything good is resulting from my fingers connecting with the keyboard. At least I know now that it will only last a week or so and then I can go back to enjoying fanfic again.  
  
Aemilia Rose, speaking as one who's had snow stuffed down the back of my jacket, I'll have to say it is quite the indicator of future romance (when the parties involved are a bit older, that is). And yes, it was a bittersweet scene to write.  
  
FantasyFan,  insightful character analysis, as usual. I differ only on one point: Farry is really not sulking, he just is doing his best to do what he thinks is expected of him. He's too honest to play a part and pretend that he can treat Goldi casually, so he buries himself in his food to avoid any kind of interaction at all. Part of Goldi's annoyance with her brothers is concern for Farry's feelings--she knows him so well! *** My cold is much better, thanks.  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and another chapter of "Truth" the day after.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 22. Invitation to Tea  
  
Just before teatime the following day, a knock sounded on the door to the Mayor's suite of rooms in the Great Smials.  
  
'That must be Ellie and Fas,' Rose said, going to the door, but to her surprise, she opened to see the chancellor's smiling face.  
  
'Ferdi? We were about to sit down to tea, would you like to join us?' she said hospitably.  
  
'I regret to decline,' Ferdibrand answered with a bow. 'I am here on a commission for the Thain.'  
  
'Ah,' Sam said, getting up and coming forward. 'Did he need me for something?'  
  
'As a matter of fact, Samwise, I am here to convey his cordial invitation to your daughter to take tea upon the meadow with his family.'  
  
'Which daughter?' Rose said, and Ferdi turned to her, smile brightening.  
  
'Why, my sweet, golden-haired lass, of course,' he said. 'The one I tried to steal away from you, for a daughter of my own, but for the fact that you wouldn't give her up.'  
  
'Go on with you, now, Ferdi,' Rose said, while Samwise raised his voice to call, 'Goldi!'  
  
Goldi came to the door of the sleeping room shared by the girls, where she had been mending a tear in young Ruby's dress. 'Yes, Dad?' she asked. She wasn't surprised to see Ferdi there, he was often in and out of their suite on the Thain's business.  
  
'You're to take tea with the family of the Thain this day,' Sam said. His eyes met those of his wife; they had talked long into the night on this, and other topics. She gave a slight nod and Sam turned back to the chancellor. 'Please thank the Thain for his kind attentions to our daughter,' he said formally.  
  
'I shall,' Ferdi promised. 'Are you ready, Goldi-my-lass?'  
  
'Take a hat,' Rose said, 'The sun is bright today.'  
  
'Yes, Mum,' Goldi said, and whirled back into the room to run a brush quickly through her curls and grab up her hat.  
  
'Farry must be off again,' muttered Merry-lad to his brothers. 'Where d'you suppose? Buckland?'  
  
'Mmm, perhaps Undertowers,' Pippin-lad answered, 'on some commission or other.'  
  
'Why not Gondor?' Robin piped up. Though Ferdibrand heard the soft-voiced discussion, he gave no sign, save perhaps a slightly wider smile.  
  
'I'm ready,' Goldi said, reappearing, hat in hand.  
  
'Do you have your hat?' Ferdi inquired as she took his arm.  
  
'Yes,' she answered.  
  
'Is it a pretty one?'   
  
He could hear Goldi's dimples in her reply. 'Very pretty, "Uncle" Ferdi.'  
  
'Good,' he said in satisfaction. 'If you are to decorate my arm all the way to the entrance of the Smials, you ought to be decorative.' The laughter of the Gamgees washed around him, and he bowed towards the Mayor. 'My thanks,' he said, 'for making my life easier. You know how the Thain is when he doesn't get his way, tyrant that he is.'  
  
'Indeed,' Sam said. 'Keeps you on your toes.'  
  
'He does,' Ferdi nodded. 'It's amazing that I have not worn my poor toes off completely.' He turned to Goldi. 'Shall we go, my dear?'  
  
There was a chorus of "good-bye" behind them as they proceeded towards the main entrance of the Smials. Goldi watched in fascination as Ferdi unerringly guided himself, fingers lightly tracing along the wall, responding to the greetings of passers-by, identifying them with uncanny accuracy by their voices. She had tried it herself on a few occasions, closing her eyes and guiding herself along the wall, counting the doorways and side passages, but it had been a slow, fumbling process.  
  
As they reached the entrance, the guard greeted them and opened the door. 'Mistress Diamond awaits you,' he said, and Ferdi thanked him, turning to Goldilocks.  
  
'Here I must leave you, my dear,' he said regretfully. 'I will go and tell the Thain that all is ready for the picnic.'  
  
'Thank you, "Uncle" Ferdi,' Goldi said. She wished to lay a kiss upon his cheek, as in the old days when she was small enough to climb up on his lap, but contented herself with pressing his hand before releasing it. He smiled in understanding, nodded in farewell, and turned back into the Smials.  
  
In the courtyard, Diamond straightened from her inspection of the contents of two large baskets to greet her, while the little twins rushed to seize Goldi's hands, chanting her name in delight, and Merigrin, Forget-me-not and Jonquil came to offer greetings of their own. 'I'm so glad you were able to join us, my dear,' Diamond smiled. 'Come, Ruby-love,' she called to Forget-me-not, 'put on your hat. See, Goldi has hers. The sun is bright today!' Diamond firmly tied the ribbon bows of Jonquil's hat as she spoke.  
  
'I will help you,' Goldi said cheerily, disengaging her hands from the twins' firm grip to lift the straw hat from where it dangled, placing it on Forget-me-not's dark curls, tying the ribbon bows.  
  
'Your hat is so pretty,' Forget-me-not said shyly, and Goldi gave her a hug.  
  
'We'll decorate yours with garlands of wildflowers, and it will be just as nice,' she said. 'And when we return from Michel Delving, on our next visit, I'll teach you to make silk flowers to sew onto your hat, and your sister's, if you like.'  
  
'Would you?' the little lass gasped in delight, and Goldi nodded, while little Jonquil clapped her hands in raptures of anticipation.  
  
'It's a promise,' she said.  
  
'Ah, my dear, _there_ you are,' Diamond said.  
  
'Of course, d'you think I would work past teatime with a picnic in the offing?' The Thain spoke from behind Goldi, and she turned to see him smiling at them from the doorway, Faramir by his side. Goldi managed to keep her expression cool, calm, pleasant, just the right degree of a nod, she thought. It was a good thing they couldn't hear her heart pounding like a galloping pony.  
  
'Faramir,' she said, her voice nicely steady, thank goodness!  
  
'Goldilocks,' he answered as formally.  
  
'I think you and I will take this basket between us,' Diamond said to her husband, 'and Goldi and Farry can take the other... can you manage, my dear?' she asked Goldilocks.  
  
'Easily, Mistress Diamond,' she said, stooping to take one of the handles. Faramir, at a poke from his father, jumped to take the other and their heads nearly bumped as they bent down.  
  
'Hullo, mouldy-Goldi,' Farry said under his breath.  
  
'Hullo, hairy-Farry,' she answered, trying to suppress a giggle. Dignified, that was the way to be. On her best behaviour. She and Faramir were still friends, after all, and they always would be.  
  



	23. Teatime with the Thain

Notes to Readers:   
  
Have I told you lately how much I appreciate my reviewers, especially those of you who take the time to send me regular notes? I certainly do.   
  
Xena, Ferdi is fun to write, all right. I try to make him human and fallible and not too amazing. Hope it works!  
  
Bookworm, yes, patience is a virtue, and will be rewarded in future. How far in future, I cannot divulge. It is on an outline, I can tell you that much, of a story that has the first few chapters written.  
  
Hai, I don't know if Ferdi has taken it all in stride or if he just has so much class (or maybe it is pride) that he appears to take it in stride. I knew someone a bit like him once upon a time.  
  
Aemilia Rose, picnics are invariably romantic, I think, when you get the right people together.  
  
FantasyFan,  well, thank you, but not quite all the loose ends are wrapped up, yet... that's why there is one more chapter after this one.  
  
Miriel, good to see you again! How's that old Spanish coming along? "Como esta Usted?" "Muy bien, gracias, y Usted?" (90% of the Spanish I remember from high school. Sorry, can't do those upside-down question marks.) Patience paid off, and you get to finally see Farry and Goldi. Whew. Thanks for the kind words.  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well, and the final chapter of "Truth" the day after. When "Truth" ends, a story with a new main character will begin. Hope you enjoy getting to know Fredegar Bolger as much as I did.  
  
***  
  
**Chapter 23. Teatime with the Thain   
**  
They sang their way out of the courtyard, across the wide field, over a hill to the meadow where hobbits of the Great Smials often chose to picnic. Wildflowers bloomed in profusion, butterflies danced in the air, a tiny brook chuckled sparkling over bright stones, and a lark sang its sweet serenade so high above them that it was a mere speck in the sky.  
  
'Lovely,' Diamond said. 'Come, lasses, let us spread the feast.' The Thain and his sons quickly had the blankets stretched out upon the ground, and Diamond, Goldilocks, and Forget-me-not laid out the food, enough for an army, it seemed. Jonquil's duty, as littlest maid, was to be in the way, for the most part, singing blithely as she adjusted the positions of the plates for best effect. Finally all was ready.  
  
Goldilocks rose and made a courtesy to the Thain and his wife, thanking them for their invitation. 'You're most welcome, my dear,' Diamond said warmly. She patted the blanket next to herself. 'Sit down, now, you must eat before the locusts devour all.' Indeed, her sons were eyeing the food hungrily. Pippin waited until the ladies had been served before he gave the word to the lads to dive in, and dive in they did, headfirst and headlong.  
  
As they ate, the Thain regaled all with stories, and there was much laughter. At one point, Diamond said, 'This has been such a delight! I hope you can join us again, and often, Goldi!' Goldilocks nodded and smiled, but avoided Faramir's glance. How could she bear to spend more time in their company, in Farry's company? Her heart was already heavy with all she had vowed to give up, "for the good of the Shire".  
  
When they finished, Diamond started to pack up the baskets, saying, 'Farry, Meri, it's time to pick a drift of wildflowers that the lasses may make their garlands.'  
  
'What is a picnic without garlands, after all?' Pippin laughed. 'Goldi, you and Ruby (as they called Forget-me-not for "short", after Diamond's sister) had better go along and direct the lads, lest they pick all the wrong colours and spoil the effect.'  
  
'Joy,' Diamond said to little Jonquil, 'you stay here with me and we shall make our own garland.'  
  
'Who will pick my flowers?' Jonquil pouted.  
  
'I will, of course!' the Thain said regally, taking his littlest daughter's hand and dropping a kiss upon it. 'I am your most ardent secret admirer.'  
  
'Secret's out,' Diamond whispered behind her hand while Jonquil giggled.  
  
'Oops,' Pippin said. 'Well let's just keep it between us, shall we?' He made a sweeping bow. 'Ladies? If you will proceed, I await your choice…'  
  
They wandered, and the Thain stooped to pluck each blossom his wife or youngest daughter selected. It was not long before he was wiping his brow and groaning beneath the "heavy load" of the armful of wildflowers he bore. Diamond laughingly took pity on him and said, 'We must stop here, before we denude the hillside! Come, Joy, let us weave our garlands.' The three sat down together and began to braid, until little Jonquil's eyelids grew heavy and she fell asleep, head on her father's lap.  
  
'What a good idea,' the Thain yawned, and Diamond patted her own lap. Carefully, so as not to disturb his sleeping daughter, the Thain laid his own head down, and soon he, too, was asleep while his wife stroked his hair and watched over the flower-gathering tweens and the twins, who were busy seeing who could catch the most hoppers.  
  
Together the young folk wandered, Farry and his younger brother Merigrin cutting the flowers that the lasses pointed out, and soon each had an armload to bear back to the blankets. There all sat down again, and the lads obediently handed flowers to the lasses on demand, watching the garlands grow under the skillful fingers.  
  
'There!' Goldi said. 'Now give me your hat, Ruby, for this will suit perfectly, I believe.' She wound the weaving of wildflowers around the hat's crown, and held it out away from herself with a critical eye, tucking more flowers in here and there, studying the effect. Finally, she held the hat out. 'What do you think?'  
  
'O it is beautiful!' little Forget-me-not breathed.  
  
'Just like its owner,' Goldi smiled, putting the hat on the little girl's head and tying the ribbons. Forget-me-not presented her with a necklace made from her own carefully chosen flowers, and Goldi adorned herself with grave thanks. The Thain sat up, refreshed, and admired the effect of the flowers, while Jonquil stirred and rubbed her eyes, then rose to dance a few steps in delight at her own flower-adorned hat that Diamond had decorated as her littlest daughter slept.  
  
'You lasses look fit to grace the court of the King and Queen,' Pippin said solemnly. 'Unlike you ruffians,' he added, turning suddenly to seize the twins, who'd been at the jelly and were well-smeared and sticky. The Thain hauled his youngest sons over to the little brook and proceeded to wash them, despite their vigorous protests. All three ended up quite damp from the exercise.  
  
'Time to head back,' Diamond said. There was a general groan, but the Thain supported his wife, of course. ('I dare not gainsay her,' he whispered to Goldi. 'She'll put me on water rations, you know.') They finished packing away the last of the plates and silver and folded up the blankets, stuffing all into the baskets.  
  
Goldi found that the basket she shared with Farry was considerably lighter, for the food and drink were now inside the hobbits, and everyone was carrying his or her share. They sang their way back to the Great Smials, and it was with a pang of regret that Goldi thanked her hosts once again and turned to go in.  
  
'We must do this again, as soon as the election is over and you return from Michel Delving,' Diamond said.  
  
'Indeed,' the Thain answered. 'I will impress upon the Mayor the need to make a good long visit at the Smials after the election.'  
  
'If he's still Mayor,' Goldi said doubtfully.  
  
Pippin's laughter rang out. 'Whether or not he is,' he said, 'he's always welcome here! But I have no doubt as to the outcome.' He took Goldi's hand and bowed over it, much as if she were a grown-up hobbit. 'Thank you again, my dear,' he added.  
  
'You're most welcome, Sir,' she replied. 'My parents will be wondering what has become of me...'  
  
'Then go,' Diamond said, 'and thank them from us, for sparing you.'  
  
'Yes, Mistress,' Goldi said, and entered the Smials, where over the eventide meal she was prompted to share with her family every detail of the picnic.  
  
When she retired after late supper, she slowly removed the garland from her neck and hung it up on the mirror. The flowers were already wilting, as wildflowers do, but as she sat before the mirror and brushed her hair, they reminded her of the brightness of the day. Her littler sisters were already abed, and asleep, when she laid down her brush.  
  
She was about to blow out the candle and seek her own pillow, when her mother stepped softly into the room, a bulky packet in one hand.  
  
'Goldi?' she said, her voice low so as not to disturb the others.  
  
'Yes, Mum?' Goldi whispered, turning from the mirror.  
  
'I have something here that belongs to you,' Rose said. Ah, how grown-up her daughter looked, not the little girl she remembered, but a tween already, well on her way to adulthood. She held out the packet, and Goldi took it questioningly.  
  
'Belongs to me?' she echoed.  
  
'Take a look,' Rose murmured.  
  
Goldi looked... and gasped. The bundle was made up of envelopes, each directed to her, in clear, bold handwriting she knew at a glance.  
  
'Yes,' Rose said. 'They are Farry's letters to you. We were wrong to keep them from you, Goldi, and I hope you will forgive us. Your father and I... we didn't want to see you hurt, and so... I fear we have hurt you, ourselves, by our actions.'  
  
'O Mum,' Goldi breathed, then stopped, not knowing what to say.  
  
'Farry's father is giving him your letters this night, even as we speak,' Rose went on. 'If...' she paused, seeking for the right words. 'If this friendship that has grown up between the two of you... if it is meant to be more than that, well, we have decided that you ought to have a chance to see... if it is more, or if it is just a lovely friendship.'  
  
Goldi nodded, taking in her mother's words.  
  
'Goldi,' her mother said, demanding her full attention. She met Rose's gaze. 'I would rather that it was _not_ more, for reasons you well know.' Goldilocks nodded. 'But if it is something that is meant to be, then you will have my blessing, and your father's. We love you, Daughter, and want only for your happiness.'  
  
'O Mum,' she breathed, and hugged her mother. Rose's arms tightened around her.  
  
'O Goldi-lass, it seems only yesterday you were lisping "Mum" for the first time,' she said, a catch in her voice. 'But kittens grow up, and so do lasses... and we would be fools to try and stop them. Bless you, lovey, and now, go to sleep.'  
  
Goldi, usually an obedient child, kissed her mother on the cheek and sought her pillow, putting the precious packet of letters under it, to be at hand first thing on the morrow... but she did not go to sleep, not for quite awhile.  
  
  



	24. To Celebrate Joy

Notes to Readers:   
  
Have I told you lately how much I appreciate my reviewers, especially those of you who take the time to send me regular notes? I certainly do.   
  
Xena, glad you found it sweet. It is really nice to write happy chapters after all the angst is worked out. I also hated coming to the end of this story, but there's no point in going on onec you've achieved the objective (Frodo's exoneration, Farry & Goldi getting the official go-ahead, and Fastred being appointed Warden of Westmarch). Hopefully there will be a sequel one of these days (Frodo's wedding). There's an outline, so there's hope, but at the moment I am wrapped up in Freddy Bolger, and Faramir and Goldi's wedding, and writing in two stories has me "maxed out". I have had to put "Shire" on hold for the nonce.  
  
Bookworm, my little ones love to pick wildflowers on picnics, and are becoming quite skilled at dandelion chains and daisy chains. Hmmm. Perhaps we need to bring along straw hats to decorate. As far as the letters go, I do believe I will let them read the letters in decent privacy. You'll have to let your imagination do the work.  
  
Aemilia Rose, they make a nice couple, don't they? I knew there was something there the day they got into the mud fight, back in "At the End of His Rope".  
  
Madeleine, I do enjoy picnics, especially in fictional chapters. Real picnics have ants, and sunburn, and wind blowing things over or away, and nasty little stinging creatures we call "yellow jackets" who are as interested in the food and drink as we are! Still, picnics are fun, as a whole, and sometimes we even picnic in the dead of winter on a blanket on the living room floor. Don't have to worry about wind and wasps that way, either (although ants are always a problem).  
  
Miriel, there is one more chapter, correct. I have enjoyed the story as well. It wrote itself nicely with very little effort on my part, as opposed to "Runaway" which made me feel as if I was pulling my hair out! At least we can hope for a sequel someday! Gracias! Hasta la vista!  
  
I continue to post new chapters simultaneously to ffnet and www.storiesofarda.com. So if ffnet has a bad day, hopefully you can still get your update of the continuing saga... StoriesofArda has author alerts, and can send author replies to reviewers, imagine that!  
  
Comments are always welcome. Have some tea and a ginger biscuit fresh from the oven...(_Frodo! Leave some for the guests!_)  
  
Look for an update in "Runaway" on the morrow, if all goes well (i.e., if I can find Jo's email in the glut of junk emails in my box!  I knew I should have saved it to disk the day she sent it to me, but procrastination is a hard habit to break), and the first chapter of the new story on the day after.  
  
***  
  
**Chapter 24. To Celebrate Joy**   
  
A tap sounded on the study door and Hilly poked his head in even before invited to do so. 'The Mayor's family is arriving,' he said.  
  
'Thank you, Hildibold,' the Thain said formally, then rose and inclined his head to his visitors. 'If you will excuse me,' he said. 'We will take this matter up on the morrow.' The visitors, merchants from Tucksborough, rose hastily and bowed in return, and the Thain strode from the study.  
  
Pippin lengthened his strides, arriving at the entrance to the Smials just as the Mayor's waggon pulled up, full of singing Gamgees.  
  
'Welcome!' Pippin cried. 'You're just in time for tea!'  
  
'Of course we are,' Mayor Samwise replied, stepping down from the driver's seat. He turned to hand down his wife, then moved back along the waggon to lift out his daughters, while his sons jumped down themselves.  
  
Diamond emerged from the Smials to envelop Rose Gamgee in a hug. 'The Thain has ordered high tea served in the great room, in your husband's honour,' she smiled.  
  
'Yes, and I'm glad you arrived in time or we'd have had to eat it up without you,' Pippin said. 'Cannot let food go to waste; it makes the cooks surly and that might curdle the milk.'  
  
'Or sour the broth,' Rose answered with a grin of her own. It seemed their troubles were well behind them.  
  
'Where's Farry?' Merry-lad asked, and the Thain turned to him.  
  
'Try the stables,' he said. 'I'd heard Spatter was about to foal.' Merry nodded, and with a jerk at his brother Pippin-lad's arm, the Gamgee lads were off at a run.  
  
'They'll miss tea,' Rose said worriedly, but Sam laughed.  
  
'Not those two,' he said. 'They'll look in on Faramir, let him know they've arrived, and be in their seats before the first drop is poured.'  
  
'Come along, you lot,' Pippin said now, taking Diamond's arm. 'I do believe it is time to go in.' Servants were unpacking the baggage and carrying it into the Smials. 'How long can you stay?'  
  
'How does a month sound?' Sam said. 'We can do a fair amount of planning in that time. Frodo, of course, will travel back to Bag End tomorrow; he's got his work, and he will look after our animals and our garden whilst we're here at the Smials.'  
  
'Excellent!' the Thain answered.  
  
Tea was a festive meal, celebrating the Mayor's re-election. Many of the Tooks had travelled to Michel Delving in order to cast their votes, and had a proprietary feeling towards Mayor Gamgee as a result, not that they expected anything of him but the good, honest job he'd done in his previous terms as Mayor.  
  
After tea, the Gamgee children scattered to find various friends. Merry-lad said to Goldilocks, 'Would you like to come to the stables with us? Farry said the foal ought to be born sometime this afternoon; the mare's getting close.'  
  
'May I?' Goldi asked her parents.  
  
'Go along with you,' Rose said with a smile.  
  
'Give Faramir our regards,' Sam added, and Goldi smiled and nodded before being pulled away by her eager brothers.  
  
'You ladies probably want to catch up on your gossip,' Pippin said. 'Sadly, Elanor and Fastred are away on a visit to Greenholm, so there is no grandbabe to pass from arm to arm.'  
  
'Yes, we have much to gossip about,' Diamond said with a meaningful look at her husband.  
  
He laughed. 'If I feel my ears burning, I'll know who's the topic of conversation!' Turning to the Mayor, he added, 'Come along, Sam, I do believe there's a glass of ale in my study with your name on it.'  
  
'Handy, that,' Sam commented, as the two bowed to their wives and walked away.  
  
Reginard was already in the study, pouring out ale, and Ferdibrand was sitting at his desk, sipping at the first glass poured.  
  
'I thought the Thain was to be served first,' Sam observed.  
  
Ferdi smiled. 'The early bird gets the worm,' he said placidly. 'Though for myself, I'd stay in bed. Never cared much for worms, they've got little enough flavour. Give me a glass of ale over worms, any time.'  
  
Regi showed Sam to a comfortable chair and supplied him with a glass of his own. 'I'd have to agree with you,' the Mayor said. 'Worms belong in the garden.' He sipped. 'Ah, this ale was worth the wait.'  
  
'Tookland's finest,' Pippin said, settling behind his desk. He raised his glass. 'To the newly-elected Mayor!'  
  
'To the Mayor!' Regi and Ferdi echoed, raising their own glasses.  
  
'To the people of the Shire!' Sam said in reply, raising his own glass. 'They're the ones who made the choice. May I live up to their trust in me.'  
  
'Hear, hear,' Pippin said, and drank.  
  
'When do you expect Fastred back from Greenholm?' Samwise said.  
  
'Didn't he tell you?' Pippin asked, but the Mayor shook his head.  
  
'In all the bustle of the election, I hardly got to say two words to him and Ellie,' he answered. 'He was just telling me about them visiting Rosie-lass, when I got pulled away to give my acceptance speech, and then after the banquet they were already gone. They wanted to reach the Far Downs before sunset.'  
  
'It did make good sense for them to go on to Greenholm,' Pippin said. 'Michel Delving is halfway there.'  
  
'Fas told me he expected to be back by the end of the week,' Ferdi put in. 'He was going to drop Ellie in Greenholm for a good, long chat with Rosie-lass, ride across to Undertowers, meet with Everard to go over a few matters of business, and then ride back to the Smials after collecting his wife and son again.'  
  
'You keep him busy,' Samwise said.  
  
'Keeps him from getting too restless,' Pippin responded. 'And he's the best hobbit for the job. His memory is nearly as phenomenal as Ferdi's there.'  
  
'Just so long as you don't put me out to pasture and put him in to replace me,' Ferdibrand said.  
  
'Never!' Pippin said fervently. 'The day you go is the day I go.' The chancellor laughed and lifted his glass, then took another sip.  
  
Mayor Samwise sat back in his chair, with a sip of his own. 'You have given me good reports on Fastred over the years,' he said.  
  
'Indeed,' the Thain answered. 'He is one of my most trusted hobbits.' He shook his head. 'He is wasted in the Smials, really. I wish I could give him something he could really sink his teeth into.'  
  
'The Westmarch?' Sam asked quietly, after a moment of consideration.  
  
Pippin was silent, sipping at his glass, but he finally answered. 'The thought had crossed my mind. Everard is a competent administrator, but he's chafing to get back to engineering full-time. I'm afraid he'll dig out so many smials under the Tower Hills that the hills will collapse, unable to sustain the weight of the towers any longer.' He sighed. 'But I know how your Rose would feel about Ellie and that grand-babe living so far away.'  
  
'Ah,' Sam said, putting down his glass. Reginard rose when he saw the Mayor's glass half empty and poured more, then moved to refill Ferdi's glass for good measure; the Thain's glass, as yet, was not appreciably depleted.  
  
'Trying to ply me with spirits?' Sam said, lifting an eyebrow. 'Make me tractable to some suggestion?'  
  
'Save us!' Pippin replied. 'If I did have a suggestion...' he let the thought go and sipped at his ale again.  
  
'I was thinking that you might want to name Fastred to Warden of Westmarch,' Sam said calmly. He caught Pippin unawares, and the other choked on his ale, apologising profusely as soon as he got over the coughing fit, while Regi turned his attention from slapping the Thain's back to mopping up the spill.  
  
Getting control of himself, Pippin said, 'I cannot believe you'd suggest it! One of the reasons I offered Fastred a position here at the Smials was so that Ellie would not be taken so very far away, especially with Rosie gone to Greenholm.'  
  
'I know,' Sam said, 'but I've talked it over with Rose, and she agrees. You have to let young folk go, eventually, make their own way. 'Twill be hard to let that fine grandson go so far away, but the Mayor's job is a travelling one, and I'm sure to get out to Undertowers fairly often. Quite a few hobbits have moved out that way, and they always seem to be having festivals to open....'  
  
'It is a rich land,' Pippin said quietly. 'They have much to celebrate.' He fixed the Mayor with a keen eye. 'Rose agrees with this?'  
  
'She does,' Sam said firmly.  
  
'Very well, then,' Pippin said. 'I'll take it up with the King next week when we go to the Lake.'  
  
'Thank you,' Sam said. 'I owe you one.'  
  
'You don't owe me a single thing; you're doing me the favour,' Pippin returned. 'Fastred's the best hobbit for the job; Ferdi's been saying so for months, now.'  
  
'Is that so, Ferdi?' Sam asked.  
  
Ferdibrand sipped from his glass and turned towards the Mayor's voice. 'Of course it's so,' he said.   
  
'Fastred will make good in the job,' Pippin added.  
  
'Of course he will!' Ferdi maintained. 'I'm always right about these things.'  
  
'Yes,' Pippin said. 'I do believe you have the right of it.'  
  
'Didn't you just say that, Ferdi?' Sam asked.   
  
Ferdi laughed and raised his glass in a toast. 'To the future,' he said. They all drank and set down their glasses again.  
  
In the ensuing silence, Ferdi said, 'When's the wedding?'  
  
Pippin jerked upright. 'Wedding?' he asked. He met the Mayor's eyes.  
  
'Mardi told me that Frodo was holding the hand of some lass, back there in Bywater, whilst we were celebrating his release from the Ban.'  
  
'O _that_ wedding!' Pippin said.  
  
'What wedding did you think I meant?' Ferdi asked innocently.  
  
'Never you mind,' the Thain answered severely. 'They're much too young, anyhow.' The chancellor settled back with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. So that was where _that_ matter stood.  
  
'He hasn't even asked, yet,' Samwise said. 'I believe he was waiting until Yule.'  
  
'Ah, a spring wedding, then,' Ferdi said. 'Lovely time of year for weddings.' He sipped at his ale again, then said suddenly, 'I suppose Frodo _is_ too young, at that… he won't reach his majority until…?'  
  
'March,' Samwise answered.  
  
'Ah,' Ferdi said. 'Am I to be invited?'  
  
'We cannot have a wedding without you,' Sam said. 'It just wouldn't be the same.'  
  
'I cannot promise to dance upon a table top,' Ferdi warned.  
  
'No, you might step off and break your neck,' Pippin said acidly.  
  
'Very well, then, as long as that's settled,' Ferdi said. 'Reginard, I do believe my glass is empty.'  
  
'And when did you get into the habit of taking a third glass?' Regi asked in astonishment.  
  
'I'm celebrating,' Ferdi said airily, holding out his glass. 'I just love weddings.' He waited until the sound of pouring stopped, then lifted his glass. 'To the happy couple!' _Faramir and Goldi, of course… drink to the hope of their future happiness… No need to drink to Frodo's. He's already filled with joy…_  
  
== The End ==  
  



End file.
